A Second Chance To Be Good
by GirlDressedInBlack
Summary: The Mistress doesn't easily slide back into the role she had once almost taken, eaten up by so many deaths and all the destruction she had committed to try and drown it out. Hurting himself from the Mistress' grief and madness the Doctor and Nardole track the Mistress' last companion to a stable point in her time stream and request her help with the Mistress. Polyshipping
1. Chapter 1

I'm not sure if you could read this without 'One Last Chance to be Good' but you can give it a go if you like because I honestly don't think it's much worth to read that looking back, haha!

So I couldn't resist sticking Florence and her family back into the mess of Missy's life when I kept getting little moments in my head of various characters interacting and all the relationship stuff I could explore. This is possibly the most selfish thing I've ever wrote, haha!

Also FlorencexMissy is 1000% canon for this fic if you were left with doubt after One Last Chance to be Good.

* * *

The Mistress finally stops throwing things at him and that's when the Doctor really begins to worry, looking at the shattered pot by his left foot. He nudges the pottery and it clacks together.

He's removing the pottery from now on for both of their safety's.

"Doctor?" She asks, voice tremulous and small.

It's only the fifth day.

How are they going to survive the next almost 1000 years of their lives?

"Missy?" He asks, voice gentle.

"I miss her." The Time Lady says, swallowing before picking up again, "She made me good Doctor- I miss her. She was good." The Mistress says, sounding bewildered despite having admitted this to him even when comparatively sane.

"Not really." The Doctor sighs, "She didn't really make you good. She tempered you a little, took away some of your crueller traits. She made you better but not good." The Time Lord states wearily.

When this doesn't bring a new torrent of objects rushing towards him the Doctor chances a look around the table he's sheltered behind.

Opposite him the Time Lady is sat in a crumpled heap, legs splayed and hands smoothing out all the little creases in the fabric of her skirt. Her lips are parted in concentration as she focuses on the floor in front of her. By her side is a shattered clock, the glass pooling from its front.

Her eyes find his easily, so blue and young he struggles to breathe for a moment.

"I want to see her." She insists, folding her legs in.

The Mistress has been cycling through this about three times a day so far. The Doctor hates it- hates having to explain it to her again, watch her face fall into despair and hold herself together and remember herself and just go silent.

"Missy." He says softly, standing slowly and crossing to her.

"Missy." He says again, gentle as he rests a hand on her knee and looks into her eyes, still eerily piercing even when she's drifted from reality.

"Missy- I'm sorry." He says.

"She's dead. Daleks. You told me- you keep forgetting but you killed them all. You couldn't save her Missy. I'm sorry." The Doctor says carefully, frowning.

There's a flicker of horror and pain which passes over the Time Lady's face, quickly schooled into emptiness.

"Oh. Yes. I remember." The Mistress says, focussing properly. Quietly she stands and picks up a chair.

She sets it back on its feet without sound and sits on it.

The Doctor looks up at her and wants to hold her.

He doesn't.

Instead he sets about cleaning up the vault, sweeping up the broken things and righting the furniture.

"It's my fault you know- all mine- I did it." The Mistress sneers, leaning into his view.

She's not particularly tall or menacing, barefoot with her hair down and in a nightgown but all the same he would rather not be laying prone on the floor with her in this mood.

The Mistress crouches down, looks into his face upside-down and smiles a horrible smile.

"I've told you haven't I? Bananas!" She sings, to her feet in moment.

"Bonkers!" She shouts, pacing around him.

"Mad!" She states in that cockney accent she enjoys.

"Crazy- loco- insane- unstable- wrong- broken- dirty- unhinged- cruel- evil- a bitch- vicious- the universe's fuck up! The worst Time Lord! The Nightmare of Rassilon! Horror incarnate! The End Song! War! Pain-giver! Queen of Evil- Destroyer of Hope!" She cries out, each phrase delivered in a different voice, getting more and more grandiose as she goes on, ripping to a crescendo that sounds delivered by a wild dog if such a feral thing had a voice box and could gesticulate so extravagantly. She steps just out of his reach, seeming to have forgotten he's there.

The Doctor attempts to stand in her distraction.

She notices anyway and kicks his legs from under him easily.

"Pop." She teases, face overtaking his vision as she tilts her head to the side, eyes wide as she grins.

"I have been called _all_ those things." The Mistress emphasises. She waits, holding her breath.

"But. You know what else I've done? More than any of those labels?" She says, lips parted as she stares at him, unblinking.

The Doctor doesn't answer, not wanting to upset her any further.

She smirks, standing again, towering above him.

" _Worse_ than any of those labels?" She asks, "Do you know?" Her voice is soft, dangerous.

The Doctor sighs.

"You didn't try-" He starts exhausted.

"WRONG!" She shouts, looking oddly joyous.

"Wrong! Wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong!" The Time Lady repeats.

"I killed them. All of them!" She cheers like a cartoon villain, arms raised to the air and a caricature of happiness on her face.

" _All_ of those people I loved _so_ much! All of those beautiful hearts! All of those people I still love! I killed them all!" She leans to the side, swivelling on her heels.

"Because I'm evil." The Mistress says, act dropping as she lets her arms fall and looks down her nose at the Doctor.

"You're lucky I haven't killed you." She spits, "Not for lack of trying."

"Missy." The Doctor hisses as she just walks away from him.

"Missy!" He shouts and she stiffens and oh- Rassilon he regrets it but it's done now.

"Missy." He repeats more gently and she turns, crying.

"I killed them Doctor. The people I love. I'll kill you too." She sniffs, lips trembling.

"Oh, Missy." He utters, rolling over and pushing himself to his feet, glad she hadn't really been intending to hurt him.

"I killed them all because I'm evil." The Mistress says, voice somehow quite steady despite her distress.

"You aren't evil Missy. You've never been evil." The Doctor soothes, crossing to her and pulling her into him.

She almost claws at him in her desperation.

"Don't lie. Don't lie!" She whispers, voice hitching against his chest.

"I'm not." He says quietly, "If you were evil- really evil- you wouldn't have cared at all in the first place. I'll help you get better. You know that- don't you?" He asks, holding his best friend as she breaks down in his arms, fully aware of the new bruises she's given him.

"Please, Doctor, please!" She begs, pressed tightly to him.

Neither of them are sure what she wants but the Doctor sighs, and walks her over to the bed.

"Come on." He says gently, sitting her down. She complies easily, hands pressed against the edge of the mattress.

The Doctor crouches so their eye level is matched. He rests a hand on her knee and squeezes lightly, smiling sadly.

"You didn't kill any of them, Mistress. Not a single one. They were too precious to you- you did your best to protect them. Remember that." He says, knowing it's what she needs to hear in this state of mind.

She sniffs, looking away and the Doctor lets her.

"Try and rest now." He suggests, softly nudging her shoulder.

The Mistress follows the movement, laying down carefully and letting him pull the covers over her.

"I'll be back down later with some food." He says, tucking her in better.

"Okay?" He asks, smoothing a piece of hair behind her ear.

Missy nods, lips thinning.

The Doctor stands and she just stares up at him like she's a child.

"Please." She asks, fingers just touching his.

The Doctor smiles, slipping their palms together and running his thumb over the back of her hand.

"Okay. I can't stay for long though. You know that, right?" The Doctor clarifies.

Missy nods, taking her hand from his and laying it over the blanket.

The Time Lord pulls up a chair and sits beside her head. He takes her hand in his and she rolls over to face him, one hand beneath the pillow. She closes her eyes and the Doctor can feel her drop into sleep quickly, her hand going limp in his.

The Master had always had a lot more control than most over their body.

The Doctor never tells Missy but he's afraid of watching her sleep as much as he appreciates that she trusts him enough.

The things he sees are rarely pleasant and even the things which should be are tainted by horror.

Today she dreams of daleks and her companion dying and their daughter in her arms and laughter dissolving into tears. She dreams of blood and viscera and screaming and the deaths preluding them being too clean, too surreal to believe.

The scenes impress themselves in his mind and he sighs, feeling wrong to be seeing all these secrets she wouldn't ever be so honest about when awake so explicitly.

Eventually he has to leave- there's essays to mark and food to buy and Nardole to quieten.

He places her hand beneath the covers and lays a kiss on her brow, leaving her to her nightmares for a while, sighing in resignation.

The Doctor sighs in exasperation.

"I just don't feel any remorse for it!" The Mistress says, shoulders rising and forehead creasing in a shrug as she blows out her lips.

"They're just inferior- I didn't care and I don't care. They were more interesting in death than in life and barely enough to hold my attention for a millisecond at that. It's about the power of holding their itty-bitty lives in your hands." She summarises.

"But how?" Asks the Doctor, truly unable to understand her lack of guilt, "How can you just not care about all the people you've killed- not have even the slightest touch of compassion- and yet love the people you choose to so dearly?" He asks, frustrated, head in his hands as he slumps over in his chair.

The Mistress turns her head away, still laying back in the chaise lounge.

The Doctor realises his mistake almost instantly, cursing under his breath.

"Missy- I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that- you know I just. I can't understand Missy. It's just. It's alien to me." He says apologetically, hating himself for it.

"Please leave." She says coldly.

The Doctor frowns, stands and walks across to her.

"Missy. I'm sorry." He murmurs gently, going to lay a hand against her shoulder.

She moves away from it, still not looking at him.

"Leave." She says firmly. Her voice trembles only slightly, her shoulder a little more.

The Doctor nods, swallowing down his apologies.

He's thankful that at the very least she has learned to temper her violence over the last sixty years.

That or he's hurt her too badly.

He walks slowly across the floor, footsteps echoing in the silence between them. It hurts him to hear her cry quietly, obviously trying to hide it from him. He gets stuck just before the doors, wiping his hand across his face to remove his own tears before he sees Nardole.

"Florence would have understood. She always did." The Mistress says wistfully, softly.

"But I killed her." Her says, voice breaking finally.

The Doctor pushes himself out, uncaring of Nardole seeing his guilt as his best friend in the universe breaks into sobs, distraught because of him.

"Sir?" Nardole asks, squinting at the Doctor's face as he slides down the closed vault doors.

"Not now Nardole." Says the Doctor, voice low as he brings his hand across his face again.

Inside the vault the Mistress is curled up on the chaise lounge, head in her arms and chin against her chest as she tries to stop the sobs wracking through her and her guilt.

"Are you having an emotion?" Nardole asks curiously, bending down a little to peer into the Doctor's face.

" _Nardole_ \- not now." He orders.

The metal man stands back, hands in the air.

"Okay. I get it. No need to get all cross." He says defensively.

The man sighs, putting his hands on his hips.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, raising his brow and looking down at the Time Lord looking as human as anyone.

The Doctor raises an eyebrow, glancing up at his minder.

"Would I-" He asks incredulously, sputtering slight in indignation despite his sorrow.

Nardole only tilts his head.

"Would you?" He asks again, still staring at the Doctor.

The Doctor just stares at him in utter confusion.

"Fuck it." He says clearly.

"Oi! Language!" Nardole warns, slapping the Doctor's arm lightly as he slumps down next to him.

"What would your humans say? What would your _wife_ say?" He asks, crossing his arms and looking reproachfully at the Doctor.

The Time Lord scowls, staring at the wall opposite.

"My students wouldn't care and you know River has worse language than me." The Doctor says, successfully brought out of his moping.

"That is _very_ true." Nardole says.

"Now- what've you both done this time?" The metal man asks.

The Time Lord explains.

Nardole turns out to be quite the listener when the Doctor lets him.

"So." He says when the Doctor has finished, fingers entwining and separating in anxiety the whole time, "Obviously what we do is we pick up this human from a stable point in her timeline and bring her in for a chat. The Mistress gets to see her- we wipe the girl's memory, drop her back and everything's just fine." Nardole says, shrugging.

"No." The Doctor says firmly, "We can't just pick her up and dump her in this mess- she's human. She'd probably break or something- you know how they are. I don't even know how Missy would react- she could do anything from eat her alive to have her worst break down yet. You know how unstable she is." The Time Lord reasons.

Nardole stands, laying a hand on the Doctor's shoulder.

"Well. Just tell me when you want to do this incredibly stupid, dangerous thing that will probably go enormously wrong." He says chirpily, grinning.

The Doctor sometimes wishes his wife hadn't found him such a great friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Florence stares in bewilderment as a blue box lands in the middle of her kitchen, wheezing like it's ill. She only just manages to keep hold of her glass, fingers tightening on it in shock.

 _She's_ ill.

The human corrects herself, automatically feeling the once familiar brush of a telepathic sentient being against her mind.

Something about it is off though.

The veneer of a police box is so out of place and just doesn't have the usual elegance the Mistress' Tardis was inclined to. The presence in her head too is strange- more gentle but less ordered- skippy almost- like a pup. Somehow there's something innately sexy about it despite that.

With a confused expression she places the glass well away from the edge of the counter.

"Doctor?" She calls out, hand resting against the polished countertop as she stares at the doors.

"Is that you? What are you doing here?" Florence asks, a feeling of apprehension growing in her chest.

Why would he come to her?

They've barely met and not in the best of circumstances any of the times it happened. It's not like she had the Mistress locked away in her basement.

It's not like she _has_ a basement but that's quite irrelevant.

The groaning noise comes to a stop and the door creaks upon a fraction.

The Tardis' presence gets stronger and Florence presses fingers against her temples.

The Mistress' Tardis was not this excitable. It's quite overwhelming but the human manages to tamp down on it, bringing her long unused shields up just enough to dull the noise enough to notice the frowning face peering around the crack between the doors.

"I didn't get the wrong place, did I?" He says, clearly nervous.

She smiles at him, wincing a little at the remnants of her halted headache.

"You do know that she sounds quite ill when you leave the breaks on." Florence says, half thankful that her family aren't here to feel distanced from her by the siren's call of the biggest period of her life and half wishing they were here to see the Tardis for themselves.

Her children might even be able to feel it a little bit- she's been training them a little, guiding them a lot more gently than the Mistress did her.

"The Mistress did it once and the Tardis rearranged her wardrobe for it and hid all her books on arts and crafts." She continues, smile brightening as the Doctor's mind seeps across to her. His mind is so different from the Mistress' and yet there's this underlying history which underpins both of them that feels like her early memories of the Mistress when she was just learning how to control her mind and feel other's presences.

So he's different but just so close is some ways that she can't help but feel like he's already her friend.

Except there's this undertone of solemnity and guilt and affection which was not this strong any of the previous times she met him.

So she's glad her family aren't here because this is serious and whatever it is she can't get them mixed up in it until she knows it would be safe.

Her smile drops and she stands up straighter.

"Would you like some tea?" She asks mechanically.

The frisson of pain that goes through the Doctor makes her grimace a little.

"Yes. Tea would be good." He says, equally as toneless.

And the Doctor sits at the small table in her kitchen, looking quite awkward in his burgundy velvet suit with his hands resting in his lap.

Somehow the suit seems wrong. Florence realises that the colours are all slightly off- not all from the same set obviously. The effort seems strange- if he was going to wear a mismatched suit why not come in clothes clearly more comfortable to him?

And then the human realises that he's trying to look something close to respectable for her and she forces another smile on her face which comes out as a lot more fraught than she intends as she breathes in deeply through her nose.

"I'll just boil the kettle- I don't imagine you have the same standards as the Mistress?" She asks.

"No." The Doctor replies, voice low.

What the hell has he done?


	3. Chapter 3

Florence goes through the motions of making tea. They are silent except for the customary queries of 'Sugar?', 'Milk?', 'Lemon?' and the brief responses.

The Mistress would have been scandalised if she was watching Florence make tea the way she does when the Time Lady isn't around to insist upon a full tea set (often with assorted tiny cakes and sandwiches).

The Doctor watches her make tea, either observing her or completely looking through her.

"Thank you." He says, taking the offered mug.

He places it down on the table, making an approximation of a smile.

"So. You're probably wondering what-" He grins falsely, eyebrows raised in a painful attempt at humour.

"Don't pretend. I can feel you in my head." Florence cuts him off, staring into her own tea and willing herself to not drink until it's cooled.

The Doctor's expression drops like an undercooked sponge cake.

"Ah." He says, looking vaguely chastised.

"So talk." The human demands.

The Time Lord's head descends into his empty hands as he rubs at his temples. He looks up a little to meet her gaze.

"You're going to hate this." He states honestly, not a single fragment of doubt in his words.

For a moment his eyes look so much like the Mistress' that it gives her pause.

"I guessed. Tell me." She says firmly yet gently, knowing how much Time Lords will spend hesitating and second guessing given the opportunity.

"Right." He says, eyes flickering back down at his cup of tea, "There's no easy way to say any of this." He says, looking back up to her.

Florence rolls her eyes.

"Get on with it before I take it straight from the front of you mind where it clearly lives." She says, sipping her too-hot tea and ignoring the burn.

The Doctor curls his fingers around the handle of his mug, stopping when the human raises an eyebrow.

"Okay." The Time Lord says, lowering the drink back over an illustration of a boat.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news but in the future you die. Missy can't stop it and believe me she's tried." He says, fingers knitting together.

"Right." Says Florence, drawing in a breath.

Her mind is faltering, trying to figure out whether he's referring to the future or her past. Either way the best option is to reveal nothing.

"You don't seem too panicked." The Doctor comments, eyebrows drawing in as he inspects her face.

"It's just part of the lifestyle. I knew that from the start. I told you as much all those years ago when the Mistress pretended to shoot me. I'll always die at some point anyway- even you will die someday, Doctor." She explains, looking away.

"The Mistress." Florence says, looking back at the Time Lord, "How is she?" Her fingers linger against the mug's porcelain surface, pinpoints of heat not able to distract from the huge wash of- GUILT- ALL MY FAULT- GUILT- BROKEN PROMISES.

She gasps a little, swallowing hard as she pushes her shields up more forcefully. The Doctor must feel the absence because he stares down into his tea, drinking from it.

"Sorry. I've never been good at that." He says woodenly.

Florence nods, willing her heart rate down as she blinks away tears.

"God- you hurt almost as much as the Mistress did on some of her worst days." She says, lifting the mug to her lips with a slightly trembling hand. The human drinks, feeling the warmth travel down her throat.

"I know." He says sadly.

"The Mistress. You probably know of her past; all the atrocities she's committed, all the people she's killed. She went back to that after you. She got caught by the wrong people. They were going to execute her but I managed to save her. I'm protecting her." The Doctor's voice is low as he gazes at the tabletop, slowly slipping from one sentence to the next.

Florence nods, biting her lip slightly and looking at the Time Lord's fingers where they pick at each other nervously. She rests her hand over his, stilling both the tremors in her own and his movements.

He flinches a little and the human lifts her hand away, not apologising.

"It's been a long time. She's not very well and sometimes… Sometimes she forgets things and I have to remind her." The Doctor states delicately.

"Oh." Says Florence, wrapping both hands around her mug and entwining her ankles as she slips her feet backwards under her chair.

"Yes." The Doctor says gravely, wetting his lips.

"She's been asking for you and I've really messed up. I can't understand her and if you agree to come I'd have to wipe your memories afterwards. I just think it would really help her to see you." He pauses between each sentence, the words obviously weighing heavy on his hearts.

The man stares at her hopefully.

Florence turns the mug around in her hands, eyeing the rippling liquid.

"I have my family." She says quietly, gaze fixed on the drink.

The Doctor is silent.

"I need to call my husband in case…" The human trails off, eyes drifting away to the other side of the room.

She holds the Doctor's gaze, looking back to him.

"But in a heartbeat. I'll do it for her." Florence says certainly, placing her half finished mug of tea on the table.

"Put them in the sink if you aren't going to finish your own." She says, gesturing to the drinks as she stands, "I'm calling him now and then we're going straight away." Florence says, already half way through the doorway.

For seconds the Doctor stares at her, bewildered with the speed with which the woman reacted and planned.

Then, slowly, he stands and makes his way to the sink to wash out the pair of mugs.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the wait- uni is hell!

* * *

Florence breathes out a shivering breath, standing over her vanity. Hair hangs between her and her reflection as she stares down at her phone, back curved as her hands press into the tabletop.

"Fuck." She whispers, remembering the Mistress' strange behaviour over the last few visits.

Does she know?

What order is she visiting them in? Has the Time Lady who visits them already been cared for by the Doctor or is the one he's taking care of already visited them?

Florence looks up at her reflection through the veil of hair and sighs again, feeling tears prick at her eyes in frustration, worry and no small amount of guilt, second-hand from the other Time Lord in her kitchen.

No.

No point thinking about that.

She won't know until she's there.

All she can do now is what she can and what she must.

Florence picks up the phone and clicks through the contacts, pressing the call button before she can distract herself.

She holds her breath now, putting the phone to her ear as it rings.

"Hey?" Asks the voice on the other end, clearly with a confused smile.

Florence smiles despite herself, the small expression flickering back down as her forehead creases.

"Hey." She responds eventually and sighs.

The voice waits.

Florence breathes in again. She can hear the person on the other end doing the same.

"It's about the Mistress." She admits when she's able to, knowing that she's not been hung up on despite the pause.

"I can't- I. I just-" The human tries, pulling at her lips and swallowing.

"I know." The voice says, calm, "I know. You have to do this. I'll take care of everything." It says, clearly worried.

Florence sniffs, swallowing a cry.

"Thank you. I'll- I'll try to-" She whispers, hand not holding the phone going to her forehead.

"I know." The voice says quieter.

There's a pause.

"Stay as safe as you can, alright?" It asks.

Florence sniffs again, smiling a little as she manages a laugh.

"Yeah. I'll try- should only be a visit. I love you though- and the kids- if all goes well I'll be back before I've even left." She says, trying to reassure herself.

"You too." The voice replies.

"Bye Aaron." Florence says shakily, fingers tightening around the phone a little.

"See you later Florence. Tell me how it goes, okay?" He asks gently.

"Yeah. Bye." Florence whispers again, ending the call and standing for a moment before her mirror, phone held to her lips as she gathers herself back up.

It would definitely be okay. It's just the Mistress- all she has to do is talk to her.

She breathes out a shaky breath.

Florence swallows again and waits for the trembling to calm.

* * *

The Doctor looks at the human as she stands beside the T.A.R.D.I.S doors, unwilling to move further in and not showing even the residual awe that seasoned companions show to his ship.

He supposes that her travels with Missy curbed that wonder a little. Part of him worries it's also due to the knowledge that she'll die in the future.

They settle down again, the Doctor having taken the breaks off to ease their journey a little.

Florence hasn't talked much since she came back down other than to tell him they could go.

The Doctor goes to put a hand on her shoulder but pulls it back, movement cut short by uncertainty.

The human stills regardless, right hand just brushing the door.

"Are you okay?" The Time Lord asks. Care lines his tone and Florence's fingers curl slightly into a fist. Although the Doctor can't see it her eyes flicker downwards for a second and she releases some of the tension.

She can read the ' _you don't have to do this if you can't'_ and the ' _it will be difficult'_ in his voice as easily as if he had spoken them.

"I'll be fine." The human says firmly, feeling anything but that past the mess of nerves and worry and second-hand guilt.

She goes to push the door and the Doctor does take her shoulder this time, gently squeezing.

Florence turns around for his guilty expression. He releases her as soon as she starts to move, dropping his hand and his gaze.

"When I said I was protecting her, " He says solemnly, "I meant that I've had to hold her in near solitary confinement- it's been about sixty years. I- I didn't want to but if I didn't they would have somehow found a way to kill her and she told me that she would do it if it saved her life- if we could be friends again. Rassilon- to be able to help her recover even a bit- when they were a child they held so much good. I just know it's there somewhere-" The Time Lord begins to babble, self-annoyance and distress like a beacon that Florence has to shade her mind from lest the extreme emotions blind her.

"I know." She says simply, cutting him off with a frown as she processes everything he's said.

He stops, uncertain and sad and worried and so, so hopeful.

Florence hesitates for a second.

She steps forwards carefully and takes his right hand on both of hers, squeezing it in a brief message of comfort.

"I love her too." She admits. There is no touch of doubt or falsity in her mind as she lets the corners of her lips turn up and drop his hand.

The human turns and takes in another breath for courage then pushes the door open.

Beyond it are another set of doors going far higher than the Tardis. They have a strange pattern on them which she could probably translate if she wasn't so worried about the Mistress.

"Oh- you're the human then?" Asks a short man near the door. Florence looks at him in confusion- frowning a little not at being patronised (you got used to being looked down upon for being a human when you travelled the same roads the Mistress did) but at the curious tone he's taking- as if he isn't worried at all about where he is, what's in that room or even being caught.

Said human pulls herself up to her full height, raising one eyebrow as she gives the man a disdainful look.

"What of it?" She asks, tone clipped.

Florence refuses to move further to acknowledge him, head tilted upwards. After a moment of deliberation she looks down on him, eyes narrowing.

"Actually. Who are _you_? And what are you doing here? I was under the impression that you had this area under control Doctor?" She snaps at the Time Lord over her shoulder.

He smiles awkwardly, stepping in front of Florence who tilts her head slightly.

"Ah- this is Nardole." The Doctor explains, still smiling that odd, nervous smile.

"I forgot to tell you- he's helping look after Missy. He helped me save her." He is quick to add.

"More like doing your real job while you go a teach the smelly humans about space." Nardole gripes.

Florence relaxes a little, expression dropping to a worried frown as the two aliens bicker. She can feel the Mistress on the other side of the door and hear the piano playing faintly. The emotions she reads make her want to drop her shields instantly and reveal herself to the Mistress but she knows she can't. It isn't worth the risk of overwhelming her.

The woman raises her shields, sealing off her mind as completely as she can.

This is enough to catch the Doctor's attention again as he seems to sense the disappearance somehow and turns to look in confusion.

His whole manner changes as if caught doing something wrong by a teacher and he clears his throat a little.

"Well. I suppose you would like to see her then." The Time Lord says, awkward smile back on his face. He pauses momentarily, eyebrows descending as the corners of his lips pull down.

"Would you like one of us to come with you?" He asks, stepping past her to fiddle with the lock on the door.

"No." Florence replies almost instantly, "I'll- we'll be fine." She says, her hands finding each other and twining their fingers.

The Doctor nods, still focused on the lock.

They all wait in silence for a few moments before the Doctor opens the huge doors. He stands in them for a moment. Missy doesn't turn to look but Florence can tell by her posture that the Time Lady is just sulking.

There's a dark trill from the piano as if to emphasise the fact that the player isn't listening.

The Doctor looks to Florence and steps away, allowing her to move in. He doesn't close the doors yet.

For minutes the human just stares at the Mistress, heartbeat speeding up as she takes in everything she can about the Time Lady.

Finally she speaks.

"Mistress?" She asks, voice quivering and pitching up more than it has any right to.

The Time Lady snaps to attention faster than a diving bird into water, almost coming off her stool with the force as she looks her gaze on Florence.

Her eyes are pain and fear and worry and guilt and disbelief and confusion and so intensely blue that Florence can't help but swallow, feet faltering and bringing her one step forwards before she can stop them. She almost drops her shields in that moment.

The Mistress stares at her for only a second and yet forever, face crumpling like a wet paper bag, lips parting as she looks at the human. Her hands claw into the piano stool for balance, her eyes shining.

Everyone breathes or forgets to, uncertainty swallowing them all- even Nardole.

Then it snaps as the Mistress tumbles from the stool in a movement almost graceful in its desperation. She lets out a cut off cry as she charges for the human, running for her too.

They grasp each other tightly, hands digging in but neither caring about force.

The Mistress relents eventually, eyes closed and head pulled against Florence's neck as she trembles. Her hands drop to circle the woman's back, resting against her hips as she breathes in deeply, nuzzling deeper into the human's neck. Florence does the same, arms wrapped around Missy's shoulders and head nose against the Mistress' skin as they just hold each other.

"You're real, aren't you?" The Mistress asks in a shaky, whispering voice which hurts Florence's heart.

She squeezes back extra hard, nodding as she gasps in a breath to speak.

"Yes. I am. I'm here Mistress." She says, her voice quavering too.

The Mistress shudders.

"I thought I'd killed you." She says in that same broken tone.

"No. Never." Florence replies, feeling the tears slip down her face between their skin.

Neither of them notice the door closing.

"Good." Says the Time Lady, voice cracking in the middle as she tries to pull her companion even closer.

The tears itch against Florence's skin but she just leans in closer, uncaring of the slow dampening of the back of her shirt.


	5. Chapter 5

Finally updated with some gay for Pride month, haha! Sorry for the wait and I hope you enjoy.

Next chapter should be on the 12th of August.

* * *

Florence lets the Mistress hold her as tightly as she needs, squeezing her back just as much, but she feels a strange restraint even as the Time Lady shudders in her arms.

"You know I won't break, don't you?" She says softly, running a hand up and down the Mistress' back.

The other woman is cold, enough to make Florence shiver a little as she nods against her skin. Was she always this cool to the touch?

She can tell the woman is trying to speak though and presses a soft kiss to the side of her neck as encouragement.

"What?" She whispers, eyes closed as she waits for the other to talk.

The Mistress gasps a little, arms tightening a fraction with the press of Florence's lips.

"It's- I- I've hurt so many people. I thought you were dead. I'd killed you. I've hurt you before- what if I hurt you again?" Between every sentence her breath catches and she swallows, Florence feeling the small movement with how close they are pressed together.

"I know. You told me. It's- I don't want you to hurt people who don't deserve it but- it's you. I feel like I could forgive you anything. I- I understand. If I didn't know that you were alive every day without you I think I would… Well, it would be. Bad." Florence says, gently pulling them apart but leaving one arm firm on the back of the Mistress' back as the other hand moves to hold her face. She looks into her eyes, thumb gently moving over the reddened skin as she sweeps away another tear. The human's lips part as she stares at the other woman, expression moving to mirror hers.

The Mistress doesn't move her gaze, lips parting too, captivated.

"You've been through so much. It's not your fault. He- the Doctor. He's trying to help you and I'm here now. You were- you were so good when- we were together. I know you can do it again. I know you can. I'm here now. You cope with things by hurting things and people. The Doctor can help you find other ways. I know he can." The human whispers, resting her forehead on the Mistress' and smoothing her thumb over her skin. Her other hand comes up to cradle the back of the Time Lady's head, fingers in her hair.

Missy stares back at her as if she hung every star in the universe.

"You." The Mistress says, incapable of anything more.

"Besides- if you hurt me it's because I asked." Florence adds with a slight chuckle, warped by the emotions clogging her throat.

The Time Lady's hands press firmly as they move up her back to her shoulder blades and loop around her neck. She pulls her forehead back, looking desperately into Florence's eyes. She shivers, eyelids lowering as her lips try to form words.

"I-" She says, breathing fast.

Florence waits, knowing how fragile the woman is right now. Her gaze drifts to the Mistress' lips and she pulls it back up to stare back into Missy's eyes which flicker down to her mouth.

"I want to kiss you." The Mistress finally says, voice disappearing into nothing with tears still tracking down her face.

"I want that too." Florence whispers back, leaning in closer and looking up into the Mistress' eyes as she feels the other woman still momentarily.

Missy looks back over her and in that moment Florence sees all the small changes that have passed since the Time Lady had seen her last. There's a layer of fear and nerves over her face which she had never seen this strong. The woman's hair is dishevelled and her clothes aren't as put together and clean cut as Florence last saw her in. The apprehension in her eyes is still too much, as if she can't believe that Florence really wants this.

The human closes her eyes and softly curls her arms back around Missy's neck, bringing her cheek to press against the Time Lady's.

"You could do anything to me." She whispers.

The Mistress chokes on another sob, turning her head to the side and finding Florence's lips. She trembles, grip fierce as she pulls the human's face to hers, fingers wound tightly into her hair.

Florence brings a hand up to nest in the Mistress' hair and the other to her waist, pulling her closer as she twists one leg around the Time Lady's.

Missy presses their lips together hard, tongue desperately curling against Florence's as she breathes in through her nose.

Florence open her mouth wider and runs the tip of her tongue against the roof of the Mistress' mouth, letting the other woman lower them both to the floor as she presses herself as close as she can get, so warm against the Time Lady's chill touch.

They pull apart for a moment, the Mistress kneeling on the floor with Florence almost wrapped around her, skirts pooled around her thighs as her left leg curves around the Mistress' hip, the right folded beside Missy's left.

Florence pushes herself upwards, seeking another kiss, needing more, but the Time Lady just pulls the human close, tucking her head under Florence's chin and sobbing openly.

All Florence can do is hold her, eyes closed as she untangles her hand from Missy's hair and runs her palms over her back.

"It's okay." She murmurs, crying herself.

"I'm here now." She soothes as the Mistress pulls a little too hard at Florence's hair, letting herself go with the motion.

Missy presses wet kisses against Florence's skin, some open mouthed and some with a hint of teeth as she trails up her bare throat.

"Mistress." Florence breathes out.

The woman pushes her down to the floor gently, one hand uncurling from Florence's hair and fumbling with the buttons on her shirt.

Florence moves a hand to block it.

"Mistress." She asks, fingers wrapping around Missy's, "Is this- is this what you want?"

The Time Lady drags her gaze up to the human's face.

"I- I just." The woman whispers, taking her other hand from the human's hair to cup her face, "I just want to be as close as possible." She says, eyes dropping back down to her fingers where she's grabbed hold of Florence's blouse.

"I've thought about you so much while I've been in here." Her voice is hoarse as she relaxes her hand, letting it rest over the human's chest as it rises and falls quickly under the influence of her desire.

The Mistress settles down beside Florence.

She carefully pulls against the other woman's hip so their bodies press together, front to front, both laying on the cold floor.

The Time Lady, drags her bottom lip through her teeth as she takes in all the changes in Florence's face; the beginnings of wrinkles she's seen form over and over again, the slightly paler tone of her skin from a rather more sedentary lifestyle than they'd lived together, the barest suggestion of having gained weight.

"Rassilon- I was awful for you." She chokes with a self-deprecating laugh as she runs a thumb over Florence's cheekbone.

"I didn't think you looked so run down when you were with me but look at you!" The Mistress says, trying to put fake cheer over her guilt.

Florence catches her hand again.

"No." She states as she brings the hand to her lips and presses a gentle kiss against the Time Lady's knuckles.

"You don't get to beat yourself up like that. I loved every year I spent with you- I wouldn't have done it otherwise. Things are different now- I'm married. Kids. I love them. I love you. I- there's." Florence sighs as she stumbles over words.

"I want to show you everything- everything that's happened since you left. The Doctor doesn't know how the timeline works for us because we're so tied up in knots but I think it might help you sort it through." She says, ignoring how much she wants the Mistress and that the Doctor is going to wipe her memory at the end and the floor is really not comfortable.

Missy opens her mouth to speak but frowns, shutting it again as she seeks out Florence's gaze.

"I can- if you want- I can take my shields down and you can see it. It's been a while so…" Florence trails off.

"I'll be gentle!" The Mistress agrees, hand already sliding up to rest against the human's temple.

The woman can't help but laugh, tucking her face against Missy's chest as her hand finds her waist.

"Rassilon- I love you." She chuckles.

"It might take a little longer than that- it's been a very long time. How about the couch at least?" Florence suggests, still laughing as she breathes in deeply and aligns her memories with the reality, remembering the two of them entangled just like this so many times before.

"You do have a couch right?" The human asks. She finally pulls herself up and inspects the surroundings and Missy comes with her, eyes not straying from Florence's face for a second.

"Yes." Missy says fondly, "The Doctor has made sure I'm quite comfortable in my prison cell." And for once the Time Lady realises that she can speak of it without bitterness.

Hell- if being trapped in a single room for sixty years with her guilt and no realistic way to drown it out was enough to see Florence alive again then she would happily live here for at least another fifty.


	6. Chapter 6

Next chapter will be on the 14th of October.

* * *

The Mistress sits on the sofa, cross legged and facing Florence who sits similarly in front of her, legs bent beneath her. The human reaches over, taking a single breath in and out before blinking her eyes open. Her fingers press lightly against the Time Lady's temples and she looks into her eyes.

"Ready?" She asks, as much to herself as to Missy.

Her heart races as the other woman stares back at her, so much swimming in her eyes that Florence is worried that she'll be lost in it.

"Always." The Mistress says, gently taking Florence's face in her right hand. She swallows.

"Okay." Florence murmurs back, shuffling a little closer. The human guides Missy's head forwards and brings their foreheads together, eyelids flickering down again as she feels the Mistress' mind so close to hers.

There's a hum on anticipation which she can feel so close and a nervousness although she can't discern the words to its song with her shields still up.

Then in the space between seconds she tears her walls down.

The noise is deafening, Missy's mind buzzing everywhere, drowning everything out like the sudden shock of being submerged and in a whirlpool. Distantly she feels her body give way, collapsing and there's so much of everything. She can hear so many voices, unfiltered and out of focus, layered until none can be understood and they disorient her even more as she struggles to figure out which direction is out.

Flashes of words catch her, leaping across her mind like electricity and diverting thought.

Then something snaps and Florence jolts upwards, gasping for breath, confused vision finding the blur in front of her that must be the Mistress and almost falling into her again.

"Florence!" Bites through her thoughts and she look up, eyes unable to decide where to look and agree on it.

"Mmm." She hums, words not quite coming out in a way which is simultaneously terrifying, amusing and frustrating.

"I'm so sorry- I- I didn't know how out of practise you were. I just dragged you down and I didn't mean to- I'm sorry." The Mistress says, words much easier to understand than the human's attempts.

She scoops Florence up again, face in her hands and runs a thumb over her cheek, analysing her with a look which is slowly coming into focus for the human.

"I- I'll try and hold back." She promises, desperation in her features as she clings to the woman leaning heavily against her.

"It's- it's okay." Florence manages to get out, pushing herself up a little with a hand beside the Mistress' hip, "I took my shields down too fast." She says, her other hand finding Missy's shoulder.

There's a pause between them as Florence looks up at the Time Lady, breath still coming fast.

"Are you sure?" The Time Lady asks eventually, eyes still holding on to the desperation although her expression betrays far more of the worry she's feeling.

"Yes. I'll go back to the first few hours." Florence says, already finding herself again escaping from the Nethersphere in her mind. She stops, catching the memory as it plays.

"I'm ready." She says, nodding although her eyes are closed at Missy.

The Mistress takes in a breath and supports the human, fingers gentle against her temples.

"Is that okay?" She asks. Florence can feel a tendril of the Time Lady's mind stretch out to hers and prod at her surface thoughts. The human nods again, feeling the differences between the developing and very human minds of her children and husband and the vastness of the Mistress'.

"Yeah. That's fine." Florence says belatedly.

She finds the memory and throws herself into the strange buzz the Nethersphere had to it, the hum of millions of other people around you. Moments later the Mistress appears beside her yet not beside her. She knows that the woman is there and can see her but she can't alter the tracks of her memory, sending her through the motions of her life after the Time Lady.

She remembers grief stained days where she sat inside and hours upon hours of irritation with the primitive knowledge she was expected to work with. She remembers loneliness and having to relearn how to communicate and so many arguments about everything she'd forgotten about the people in her life. She remembers joy too, her work, her kids, her husband and millions of other small moments which shine like water in the morning sun between confusion and frustration and guilt.

All of it passes in the blink of an eye, Missy computing the information faster than anything humans have developed.

Florence feels her linger on different moment; the first job she got which didn't feel pointless, the birth of her children (which brings out a pang of something bitterly sad in the Time Lady), the first time she met the man she had married, their wedding, meeting with her grandparents several times and most of all her own meetings with the Mistress every week and the Mistress playing with her children and the Mistress chatting with her husband on a warm afternoon.

And then she draws back and it is enough that it pulls Florence free of her memories and back to herself where she releases a held breath.

The Time Lady's eyes are shining, wide as her lips part slightly and she drags them between her teeth. Her cheeks are slightly flushed as she breathes evenly.

"That's. That's my future." The Mistress says softly.

Florence smiles slowly.

"Yes. I thought it might be." The human admits, feeling her grin grow wider.

The Time Lady justs laughs a little, pausing then beginning again, joy spreading across her face.

"Only nine-hundred and forty years left." She says, laughing more. The sound turns bitter and she sighs.

"I'm sorry. It's just- it's going to be an incredibly long time and you- you're human." Missy whispers, eyes closed. She swallows, resting her head on Florence's as the human sits up properly.

"I've always been human, Missy." The woman says, closing her eyes too and bowing her head to place it against the Time Lady's chest.

Again they fall quiet, just holding each other, just breathing.

"I don't want to go through that again." The Mistress whispers into the human's hair, arms wrapped around Florence, "I don't think I can-" She starts, voice breaking off as she gasps a little, shuddering.

Florence is silent, arms sliding around Missy's neck and waist, tucking the Time Lady's head into her shoulder.

"How many years will I have to spend without you?" The Mistress says, voice low as she disentangles herself and looks her ex-companion in the eyes. Her own are rimmed with red, the blue shining like ice as she wets her lips and makes an attempt at smiling which falls flat.

"How long before you die, Florence?" The Time Lady asks, lips thin as her fingers clutch at Florence's shoulders.

She cries openly now, tears slipping down her pale face.

Florence looks away, hugging herself.

"I don't know." She whispers to the floor.

"We'll figure something out." She says to Missy, not much louder, "I'm- I've seen so much in my travels with you. I'll work something out." The human says, feeling more certain as she says it.

The Mistress says nothing but nods, not wanting to upset Florence when she's only just seen her again.

"The Doctor's going to wipe your mind at the end of this." The Time Lady says after a while.

Florence nods, sitting properly in Missy's lap by this time, right arm curled around her waist and head on her shoulder.

"You think I can fake it?" She asks, fingers playing with the thin hair at the nape of the Mistress' neck, breath warm against the Time Lady's neck.

The Mistress laughs a little, affectionately laying her cheek on Florence's head.

"Maybe... He's never been good with mental manipulation and if he tries to use some kind of device set to human you're quite a bit more capable in that area than most humans." Missy says, smiling contented for now.

"Hopefully." She says more quietly.

"Hopefully." Florence agrees, her other hand coming up to rest between Missy's hearts.

The human smiles softly, eyes closed, as she feels the slight pick up of the Time Lady's heart rate.

Gently she lifts her head and presses a kiss to the corner of the older woman's lips. Her eyes are fixed on the Mistress'. She moves closer, cupping Florence's face and pressing their lips together properly, tongue gentle as it brushes the human's.

They pull back again, Florence tilting her head back as the Time Lady turns her hand and softly runs her knuckles over Florence's cheek, down her neck and further still, fingers brushing the curve of her breast through her shirt as it travels down, feather-light to rest curled over her thigh, eyes questioning, honest and wanting as they stare into the human's.

Florence brings their lips together again in answer, touch light against Missy's cheek.


	7. Chapter 7

Next chapter on the 16th of December.

* * *

Florence sighs, exhausted as she sits down on the bed after checking on the kids, needing to make sure that they're okay just one more time.

"Long day?" Aaron asks, teasing as he rolls over to face her, arm extending in an offer she takes without thinking. She pulls herself into his chest, wrapping her arm around him in return.

"Yeah. About double the length of a normal one." She responds, joking yet honest as she smiles back at him wearily.

"Thanks for today." She says, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

He shifts, left arm curving around her back as they just breathe, his head in her hair and her head against his chest.

"How did it go?" He asks eventually, voice blurred by the call of sleep.

Florence brings her right arm to his chest, idly tracing shapes against his skin as she takes a breath and swallows.

"It was. It was intense." She murmurs eventually, eyes closed as she pulls herself a little closer to him for the comfort, "She's unwell. You know how bad her coping strategies were- I've told you before- and she's trying to get better but she's thought I was dead the whole time. I don't know how long it's been. Her friend's trying to help her but he's not really well himself." Florence explains, sighing.

"He's been so wiped out by looking after her and teaching at a university- can't even keep his lessons straight according to the Mistress. They've even got a servant of some kind to keep an eye on them both but he can't keep an eye on them both all the time." She continues.

Aaron sighs too.

"They're lucky to have you too." He says, arm around her head as if he can protect her from the stress with it, "When are you going back?" He asks after a moment of quiet.

Florence stills again, wetting her lips.

"I don't know. We didn't talk about it. He- the Doctor was meant to wipe my mind before I came back. I don't know if he forgot or changed his mind but I didn't want to remind him." She explains, filling her lungs and expelling a long breath.

"They'll want you to see her again. Tomorrow or the next day. They need you Florence." He says seriously, pushing them apart a little to cup her cheek and smile warmly.

She smiles back more sadly, eyebrows dipping in the middle.

"But what about you? What about Helen and Annelise? You need me, don't you?" She asks, her hand coming to rest on his cheek too.

Aaron shakes his head in amusement, shuffling forwards to press his lips to hers and kiss her tenderly.

"Always. We'll always need you." He says when they part, kissing her forehead and each eyelid.

"But." He says with a sigh, "They need you too. And the girls miss Missy. She's late visiting this week. I'm sure they'll be glad to know she's mostly alright. Hell, they'll probably enlist me to help them make biscuits and cards for her tomorrow or something." Aaron says with a huff of laughter. Florence laughs a little too, knowing that it's more than likely with her girls.

"Yeah." She agrees.

They both lie in bed, staring at each other and smiling.

Florence pulls her arms back to herself and frowns a little.

"Ah." She says, trying to find the words for what she's about to say, uncertain even though she expects Aaron will take it well. He frowns back, eyebrows lowering in concern as he strokes his knuckle over her cheek, brushing back some stray hair.

"Ah?" He asks.

Florence diverts her gaze from his eyes, instead tracing with it the shapes in the wallpaper. She sighs again.

"I had sex with the Mistress." She says, swallowing as she feels the heat rise in her cheeks and the prickling of tears in her eyes.

His touch on her cheek stills, turning to hold her face again. She can't see the concern on his face as she swallows again, fear running through her.

"She- she didn't hurt you, did she?"

"No. No- she didn't." Florence can't reply fast enough, horrified by the idea.

"And you wanted it, didn't you?" He asks, never more serious.

"Yes!" She responds in a rush, "She wouldn't- never-" Florence flounders.

Aaron wraps her in his arms again.

"Then what are you crying for? Didn't you enjoy it?" He asks, one palm rubbing up and down her back, the nightshirt hitching up with every stroke.

"I- yes." She sputters, "But you- I love you. Aren't you? She was my past and you're my. You're my now." Florence tries to explain, confused as she pulls away slightly to look into his face.

Aaron smiles at her gently.

"You love me but you love her too. I've seen the way you look at each other- I'm surprised you didn't make your excuses to the kids and head off when she first found us." He says with amusement.

"But-" Florence protests, "She was my past. Don't you- aren't you jealous or upset or something?" She asks, nervous even though he's done nothing that should make her feel that way.

"You're the only one for me but we're lucky, Missy and I, you can love both of us. She's your future too now." He murmurs into her hair, pulling her close again.

Florence sighs, releasing the tension she's been holding and wrapping herself tightly around him, leg hooked over his.

"I love you so much." She whispers into his chest.

"I know." He murmurs back, one hand still moving up and down her back, "Now get some sleep in case they come to pick you up in the middle of the night." He teases, head in her hair.

* * *

The Doctor sighs, leaving the vault for the evening with the Mistress comfortably wrapped up in her bed.

"How is she then?" Nardole asks, curious, "No biting this time?" He asks, eyebrows raised as he watches the Doctor slump back against the doors.

"No. No. All fine. She had dinner, passed over the knife and fork with no complaint or threat, took a bath without flooding the place or requiring me to sit there with her the whole time and then just went to bed. No whining. No worrying." The Time Lord says wearily but glad.

Nardole's eyebrows raise even higher.

"And she wasn't hiding anything up her sleeve?" He asks, disbelieving.

The Doctor grabs his chin and thinks for a second.

He turns to go back in then stops.

"Wait. No. I checked. Nothing in either sleeve or inside her shoes." He summarises.

"Oh! That's rather lovely then!" Comments Nardole, pleased that they can have an early night tonight at least, grinning at the Doctor, "I'll see you tomorrow then!" He says, waving as he heads off.

"Wait." The Doctor says again, reaching after the android who stops, turning back slowly.

"What?" He asks suspiciously.

The Doctor fixes his gaze on him.

"What do we do if she acts up just to get us to bring Florence around again? What if this was just a way to get what she wants so she'll do it whenever she doesn't get her own way?" He asks, worry clear on his face.

"You're right- she could be." Says Nardole, turning again.

The Doctor stumbles after him, grabbing his arm.

"What do we do?" He asks, panicked.

Nardole shakes him off.

"We get the human in again. Not like it has much else to do. It's a boring planet." The man says unconcerned, shrugging.

"But she has a life that isn't all this. Kids, married, family. We can't just expect her to give that up. I can't let another human give up Earth just for a Time Lord even if it isn't me they're giving it up for." The Doctor says gravely, eyebrows descending on his face as he frowns.

"It'll work out." Nardole says dismissively, waving his hand as he heads off again.

"Now if you will excuse me- I'm off to get a normal amount of sleep for the first time in decades and you should do the same." He says, marching up the steps and leaving the Doctor with his moral quandary in the basement.

The Doctor stays outside the Vault, back pressed against the doors as he thinks about what he's done. At the early hours of the morning he makes the long walk back to the TARDIS to rest for a few hours before his lectures.


	8. Chapter 8

Next chapter should be on the 17th of February.

* * *

Months go by without any contact. Florence and Aaron don't forget about the visit but it gets pushed aside in favour of more important things at the time like shopping for groceries and picking the kids up from school. The girls are still somewhat disappointed when their weekly stories from Missy remain missing but as with most young children they quickly move past it, time spent making up their own stories or drawing pictures for the Time Lady's inevitable return as they see it.

So by and by the humans' lives go back to normal, slipping into the Summer properly and edging into the chill of Autumn.

The leaves are scattered on the floor in the strong winds and start to shift from greens to ambers and reds before they hear anything from the Doctor.

* * *

The Mistress seems to try harder to be better. She still struggles with basic moral decisions which don't relate to herself or aren't supposed to be solved simply with logic but overall she's…

Trying.

In more ways than one.

* * *

She relapses still but she seems to come out of it quicker, more fully, seeming somewhat sheepish behind the way she snaps at Nardole and him and their 'fussing' (in her words). The Time Lady seems to be learning from all appearances, idly checking her nails as she spouts something the Doctor had always wanted her to understand.

It feels hollow somehow, the way she pulls away from him now, insisting on doing things herself rather than forcing the Doctor or Nardole to do things for her. He is of course very glad that she isn't trying to throw herself at him in some misguided attempt to get him to loosen up.

Still he can't help but worry at the way she reserves herself that she isn't taking it seriously or that is losing herself to it. He would like to say that he doesn't know which is worse and he would say that to anyone else but he can't lie to himself.

The Doctor is worried.

To be more accurate he is guilty on so many different levels _but hasn't that always been the case_?

And there's only one real course of action he can take because Nardole would dismiss his worries as something that doesn't need action yet or Missy playing mind games.

The Time Lord sits at his desk in his office, head in his hands and looks out of the corner of his eye at the TARDIS waiting patiently in the corner like a beautiful monkey's paw.

He knows it will probably end badly if he keeps dragging the human back into and out of Missy's life but he knows that he's going to do it anyway.

* * *

Florence starts, the knife in her hand jolting against the chopping board before she lets it clatter to the worktop, thrusting forwards as it slips perilously close to the edge of the counter and her feet.

"Shit." She mutters when she's caught her breath, knife handle pressed against her stomach.

The human sighs in relief, adrenaline still shooting through her as she places the knife down carefully this time, well away from the edge of the counter.

"Sorry." The Doctor murmurs as she turns to face him, "Didn't mean to scare you." He says, offering a somewhat sad smile as compensation.

Florence is just about to ask why he's here, hoping that the answer is the one she's been waiting for when the kitchen door bursts open.

"Is Missy here?", "That doesn't look like the TARDIS!", "Who's _he_?", "Is he Missy?"

A torrent of questions spill from the mouths of her daughters and Florence can hear her husband following as Anna tugs on her hands, steps on her toes and looks at the Doctor upside-down, making an odd humming sounds as the blood rushes into her head.

The mother laughs a little, pulling her daughter up to sit on her hip with an unexaggerated groan. Anna really is getting too big for this.

"Got you!" Aaron roars, grabbing for their other daughter who is eyeing the Doctor suspiciously. He scoops her up and she giggles, struggling in his grasp to keep sight of the Time Lord.

"Daddy!" She complains around the moment that Aaron notices the unfamiliar man.

His eyebrows raise a little as he shifts his precarious hold on his child to something more stable, seeming a little wrong-footed himself.

"Ah- I'm." He flushes a little, unsure what the protocol is for when a strange man you've never met but your wife seems to know appears in the kitchen. His eyes drift to the blue box behind the Doctor as he shuffles a little closer to Florence, lowering Chelsea back to the ground a little, arms tiring quickly of holding the almost nine year old.

"I presume you're the Doctor." He says, a lot more certainly than he feels.

The Time Lord gives a grimace that is meant to be a smile.

"Ah- yes. I am." He agrees, both staring at each other awkwardly with no idea how to proceed from there.

Thankfully Anna cuts in.

"Mummy- who's the Doctor?" She asks, going to stick her fingers in her mouth. Florence gently bats them away, unthinking as she looks down at her daughter.

"Well you remember how the Mistress said she had a very old friend?" Florence asks, looking over at Aaron to catch both girls nod, Chelsea looking towards her mother now, "Well the Doctor is the Mistress' best friend in the whole wide universe." She explains, bouncing Anna a little on her hip like she used to do when she was far lighter.

Anna frowns.

"But you're Missy's best friend?" She questions, seeming disappointed as she pats her mother's chest, "Forever and ever. That's what Missy said." Anna complains.

"Did she?" Florence asks, somewhat amused as she smiles at her daughter though she has no idea how to respond.

The Doctor is suddenly crouched down to Anna's head height.

"Your mummy is Missy's favouritest person in the whole world. She told me that too!" The Time Lord says, eyebrows raising in an approximation of excitement.

At this declaration Chelsea pipes up, "You know where Missy is? We haven't seen her for ages and ages!" She whines as Aaron puts her down, a hand resting on each shoulder either to hold her back from ambushing the Time Lord or for his own support in the very strange situation.

"I do." The man says gravely, uncertain, "She's not very well so I'm looking after her. That must be why she hasn't come to see you." The Doctor tells them, hoping to calm the kids down.

Obviously it is precisely the wrong things to say as the children instantly start worrying and insisting to see her and Florence knows that Missy hasn't met them yet in anywhere except Florence's memories and the Doctor doesn't know this and if he's coming to see her then that must mean that Missy is worse again and if she is then is it good for her to meet her children or her children to be around her?

Thankfully for both the confused Time Lord and the mildly stressed mother Aaron takes Anna from Florence and begins to herd Chelsea out of the room.

"Come on- let's give mummy and the Doctor some time to talk and we'll see what they say. The Doctor has just got here after all and you jumped on him." He says gently, one hand on Chelsea's shoulder as he ushers them both out of the kitchen door and shuts it softly.

"We didn't jump on him!" Florence hears Anna protest as her children are lead away.

She sighs, turning back to the chopping board and picking up the knife, feeling its weight in her hand again, solid after the surreality of the last minute or so.

"How is she?" The woman asks, bringing the blade back down on the carrots again. No matter what happens the fact that it's her night to cook doesn't change, nor does her rule of only one takeaway a week.

The Doctor sighs too and Florence hears a chair scrape just slightly on the ground as he sits down.

She can almost imagine him putting his head in his hands. His hair certainly makes it look like he does that a lot.

"I don't know." He says honestly, "She seems okay but sometimes I just think it's too much- too soon." The Doctor murmurs, interspersed by the crack of the knife against the wood.

Florence is quiet, not quite understanding and hoping that the man would somehow fumble his way to what he's trying to say as she acclimatises to having two far stronger minds than she's used to around her (although she supposes that the TARDIS has a mind only in the most abstract sense).

"I don't know if she's just saying what she thinks I want to hear to get out before she's ready or if she's changing too much. I want to help my friend, not destroy her." He manages to get out after a few false starts.

Florence starts peeling the potatoes, gently slipping them into a pot of cold water when she finishes with each one.

"My daughters. They miss her." She says after a while, not sure what the purpose behind her saying it is. Maybe she wants him to make a decision.

"I know." He rumbles and then quieter, "I didn't know that she was so close to your family." Then quieter still.

"Do you think they would be safe with her?" He asks.

Florence stills in her work, laying the peeler down.

"Always. I would trust her with their lives." She says after the barest hesitation, realising that it's true.

Even if she doesn't trust this younger Mistress with guarding their lives out of personally valuing them she knows that she would never let Florence lose them.

She turns around again and the Time Lord sighs, lifting his head a little.

"I suppose you should go and get them then." He says, not moving further.

Florence can't help the sad smile as she passes him, wiping her hands on a tea towel as she does.


	9. Chapter 9

Next chapter on the 14th of April.

* * *

The Doctor seems quite put out by the lack of reaction from either Aaron or the children and doesn't hide it as well as Florence hides her amusement from him.

Nardole complains for a good ten minutes about Florence's children, overexcited from the travel and for the idea of seeing the Mistress again. They eventually manage to be allowed near the door after a lengthy hushed talk between the Time Lord and his caretaker.

The girls stare up at it in awe, crumpled sheaves of paper clutched in their hands which Nardole eyes warily and with some disapproval (though it's directed more at the Doctor than the girls themselves).

But eventually the door is opened and Aaron squeezes Florence's hand as the dim lights of the room in front of them spill into the basement they're standing in.

"I'll wait out here." He murmurs under his breath. Florence frowns but nods, leaning into his side a little as she squeezes back.

The girls charge in, screaming Missy's name.

Florence can only see the brief confusion because she's looking for it as Missy turns and pulls on a teasing smile.

"Short humans? What are you doing here?" She sings, exaggeration on her breath and in the flourish of her hands as they move to her hips and she stands over them. There's almost happiness though it's a little hollow in the way she plays it from Florence's second-hand memories.

Chelsea and Anna giggle a little, quickly beginning to spread their papers on the floor. Anna tugs at the Time Lady's hand and Missy complies, coming into a squat as Chelsea sets about straightening rows of their drawings like a strange gallery on the floor.

"Wow! You have been busy!" The Mistress lies, having no idea who the children are really as her gaze goes over the scribblings.

Florence gives one last squeeze to her husband's hand and releases him, stepping into the vault and nodding to the Doctor.

The doors close behind her and she turns the lights up a little as she joins her girls and Missy.

Her palm slides around Missy's back to settle on her hip as she crouches next to her. The slight ease of tension in her says enough as her fingers slide back softly to touch Florence's- a silent acceptance before she points to one of the more identifiable drawings and asks if it's a Krillitane.

* * *

They spend a few hours in there, mostly the children talking at Missy and giving her a full update of everything that has happened since they last saw her. Florence stays close, providing as much comfort to the somewhat overwhelmed Time Lady as she can.

Eventually the children run out of things to say and the conversation that the two women have been carrying between their minds comes to a drifting close, both of them quite tired of the enthusiasm they've had to respond to beside it and the shielding to keep the children's wandering minds from intruding accidentally.

Florence gathers up her children again and lets them insist on putting up their drawings for Missy with blue tack they must have pilfered from the pot she keeps on the mantelpiece for cards, grubby from being in their pockets.

Florence softly presses her lips against Missy's as the two kids are distracted by arguing over placement and lets the back of her fingers brush over the Time Lady's before she goes to sort out the trouble before it blooms into a fight.

When they've stuck them, clustered and slightly overlapping in places, not a single one straight, on the patch of wall next to the door in a way which both child is slightly unhappy with and Missy has declared it 'lovely' Florence finally convinces them that it's time to go.

She can feel some of the fondness that Missy has for the children in the future beginning to settle in Missy's mind as they say goodbye.

The girls wave and tell her that they'll see her next week as the doors close in front of them and the Time Lady waves back, smiling a little sadly as she agrees to it.

The discomfort is clear on the Doctor's face as Florence looks to him and he clasps his hands in front of himself awkwardly as he turns towards the TARDIS and raises his eyebrows.

"Well I suppose we'll be seeing you again next week…" He says in a way which Florence thinks is meant to be patronising.

Aaron gets up from a somewhat precarious seat on a pile of junk somewhat near Nardole whose eyebrows are raised even higher than the Doctor's as he waits for the Time Lord to tell them that it won't be happening. The human dusts himself off, closing the book in his hands which he definitely hadn't brought with him.

"It sounds like we will." He asserts, laying the book in his hand on Chelsea's shoulder and his full hand on Anna's.

The Doctor opens and closes his mouth for a moment in surprise but softens, huffing.

"Yes." He agrees, eyes flickering back to the children.

Florence smiles warmly.

"Back home for now though- we've got dinner to make." She tells the children, bending down a little as she ushers them back into the blue box, "And then bed time. You've got school tomorrow." She reminds them, laughing a little inside at Chelsea's dramatic groan and Anna's huff.

Aaron brushes his hand against his wife's as he follows them in, calling to them as they evidently start trying to cause some kind of havoc to avoid the dreaded bed time.

* * *

It doesn't take long when the humans are home for Aaron and Florence to finish cooking dinner and then bath time and finally get their children into their beds despite the numerous complaints of being 'not tired'.

It isn't surprising really considering that their day has been extended by about three hours (if the time difference between Florence's watch and the wall clock is to be believed).

The adults are too exhausted too by the time they can finally go to bed to do much more than promise that they'll talk about it properly tomorrow after the kids are in school.


	10. Chapter 10

Next chapter's on the second of June.

* * *

The kids are back at school again the next day and only a rather belated check of the calendar in the morning as Florence is getting the children dressed informs the rather busy parents that they have yet another appointment to keep that day.

"Your grandparents are coming over today." Aaron shouts up the stairs over the girls' giggling.

Florence mutters a word under her breath which she hopes Chelsea and Anna don't catch and start repeating.

"Just what we need." She follows up with, prompting Anna to look up from where she's buttoned her cardigan wrong.

"What do we need?" The child asks, gaze serious and determined.

"Don't worry. Mum and dad just forgot something they're doing today. Nothing for you to worry about." Florence reassures, ducking down again and sorting out the buttons for her. She takes the girl's hand and looks around for Anna who has decided to try and brush her own hair.

The woman wants to panic but just closes her eyes momentarily and breathes deeply.

"Come on Anna- mummy can do both of your hairs downstairs, okay?" She says, reaching out a hand to the rather frustrated six year old making a mess of her hair by attempting to brush it all forwards over her face.

After a moment of consideration the child reluctantly agrees, stomping over to her mother with a scowl and making a whining noise in complaint.

"Daddy's going to take you to school this morning because mummy has some things to do." Florence tells them as she walks them down the stairs in an awkward single file.

"But it's not daddy's turn!" Whines Anna in a tone which Florence just knows precedes a tantrum and she really does not need this today of all days.

She bends down a little on the stairs, making sure that they keep walking.

"Well mummy has some things to do so can't take you today. Why don't I make something yummy for dessert then while I'm doing other things? Would that make up for how mean mummy is being for being too busy to take you to school?" Florence asks.

The sarcasm, as she expects, is lost on her daughters.

"Okay." Anna moans as if the whole thing was happening purely to inconvenience her.

Florence turns her head quick enough to hide her smirk and slight chuckle from her child.

* * *

Hours later Florence is fretting over the state of the garden, grass perhaps too long to be presentable but better than the mess of children's toys in the dining room which haven't yet been cleaned up.

It's too late now to do anything about it though so it will have to do.

"You know that they won't care." Aaron reminds her, one eyebrow raised as he presses a kiss to her temple and wraps an arm around her shoulders.

The woman sighs.

"Yes but it's how things should be done." She complains, leaning into him slightly as she takes in the mess of their garden in comparison to the one just over the fence to the left. They're walled in on the right by an old wall which has seen more than a little restoration in the whole time they've lived here to keep their children from escaping into the next garden.

The left garden however provides quite the contrast with their own with its neatly trimmed grass and clean sandstone patio slabs. On it sits a black painted metal table and two matching chairs with cushions approximately the same colour as the tiles.

"You know that they are retired with no kids." Aaron chuckles, catching where Florence's gaze falls.

"Mm." She hums her acknowledgement and steps away from her husband, briefly looking up at the sky, "I just hope it doesn't rain." She says, eyeing the clouds suspiciously.

Aaron sighs.

"If it does we'll just go inside. You know they won't care about the mess- they had kids too once." He reassures, rolling his eyes a little.

Florence just sighs and heads back inside to check the time.

* * *

About half an hour later Barbara and Ian arrive precisely on time and park up on the curb. Florence gets up from where she'd not so covertly been watching from the window and unlocks the door, pushing it open and waiting in the doorway.

"Are they here?" Aaron calls from the stairs.

"Not even at the door yet!" Ian shouts in response as he and Barbara walk up the path.

When they reach the door Florence wraps her arms around her grandfather and Aaron takes her grandmother's hand, pulling her towards him and patting her on the back.

"It's good to see you." Ian says as they pull apart again.

They swap and Florence sighs.

"I swear the two of you never age." She jokes a little though it is a somewhat true assessment of their appearance.

Barbara smiles as she is released.

"Where's the fun in that?" She asks.

Florence doesn't state what is now obvious to her and instead smiles back.

"Right! Tea?" She asks and backs away into the house, turning to lead them to the garden through the kitchen and avoid the various messes on the way.

"You know that's the only reason we come." Teases Ian, closing the door behind him and turning the keys in the lock again as he follows behind the other three.

Aaron takes over when they reach the kitchen, holding the back door open and gesturing through it.

"It's just the bench. I'll be out in a second." Florence says, distracted by picking up the tiered display of sandwiches and cakes and carefully trying to pick up the tray holding the tea set with one hand.

"I'll get that." Ian says goodnaturedly, taking the tray from her before she can drop anything.

Florence huffs, "You're the guests." She complains mildly.

Ian laughs.

"And we'll always be your grandparents." He says then gestures with the tray towards the door where Barbara and Aaron wait, equally as amused.

"Lead the way?" He asks, eyes warm.

Florence shakes her head and sighs but can't help the smile which curls her lips upwards.

"Fine." She agrees, squeezing past the three of them to the door and into the garden.

There's a brief patch of poured concrete they've been meaning to put tiles over since they moved in before the grass which really should have been cut at least three weeks ago. A twisted wisteria plant cleaves to the old wall, a somewhat stagnant old pond left by the previous owners not far from its feet. A faded plastic boat floats belly up near the centre of it, a rim of deeper colour just visible around the waterline where it bobs.

Their destination however is the run down picnic bench not far off the trodden path, the wood bleached a little from exposure.

"Ah." Barbara murmurs and Florence places down the food, looking back to her grandmother who seems to be struggling a little with her smart heels in the grass.

"Sorry- do you need?" She asks, beginning to move back towards them in her own more flat shoes as Ian gently puts the tea set in the middle of the bench.

"No need." Barbara insists, slipping off her shoes and pulling the end of her tights back over her feet and ankles.

"Nothing wrong with getting a bit of dirt between your toes." She assures Florence, "Can't believe it took people so long to make tights you can step out of though." Barbara says with a strange glint in her eye as she walks barefoot the rest of the way to the table. There's a brief rustle through the grass beneath the table as she gets there.

"Perhaps a clean up is in order though." She teases as she sits down, flattening her skirts and passing out the small plates.

"Ah- sorry. The kids are always losing things." Florence is quick to apologise, catching sight of faded red and setting a mental reminder to get rid of the ball before they cut the grass.

"You know that we'd be happy enough to have tea in the kitchen out of mugs." Ian reminds Florence as he takes a few of the cucumber sandwiches.

The woman blushes as Aaron huffs a laugh next to her.

"I know. It's only proper though- it seems wrong to do it any other way." She says, thinking of a certain Time Lady before she distracts herself by pouring tea and distributing sugar.

Ian laughs again, shaking his head.

* * *

The rest of their chat goes relatively well.

The rain decides not visit them and Barbara and Ian seem just as amused by everything as they always do, smiling between themselves in a secret way when Florence almost says something a little too revealing about her life or talks about something she possibly shouldn't know about.

At the end of their visit Barbara and Ian wave at the door and Barbara presses a crisp envelope into Florence's hand in a way that hides the name on the front.

She smiles, lips tight and seeming to be holding something in.

"You know where this will belong I imagine." She says, turning with mirth in her eyes as Ian opens the passenger door for her and waving.

"I'll call to arrange next time within the week." Barbara calls out to them, waving again through Ian's open window.

Florence smiles and waves back at them, wrapping the hand with the envelope in around Aaron's back.

"See you next time." She calls back.

They wait in the doorway until the car has disappeared down the road, closing the door only then.

Florence releases Aaron and turns over the envelope in her hand, a little creased from her holding it.

In practised handwriting on the front is a name that Florence hadn't really expected to see.

Aaron's eyebrows raise as he looks down on it and sighs, hand coming to his face.

"You know I really should expect strange things wherever you're concerned…" He says, not unfondly as Florence groans in frustrated confusion.

The Doctor.

Of course.


	11. Chapter 11

Next chapter's on the 21st of July.

* * *

"We want to bake cakes for Missy!" Followed by, "Don't wake them up Anna!" Is a rather rude awakening for both Florence and Aaron on what should have been an otherwise uneventful Saturday.

Groggily Aaron tries to comprehend the meaning of their words, clumsily leaning over Florence to grab the clock on the bedside table.

"It's only seven." He complains, collapsing slightly onto his wife who, though just as disgruntled as him by the hammering on the door and the early weekend wake up call, is already alert due to an ingrained sense of emergency resulting from too many years spent living with someone with no idea how human sleep patterns worked.

Florence sighs, shoving him off of her and putting the alarm clock back on the table. She slings an arm over her eyes, fighting the urge to stay still, and sighs again.

"I'll get up. Normally they wait another few hours." She mumbles as she swings her legs over the side of the bed and sits up.

"I'm coming." She says, projecting her voice a little more to reach her daughters who bicker on the other side of the door. Instantly they stop, instead running off to get dressed properly and wash their hands.

Florence hopes.

She really does.

Yawning as her brain comes out of the shock of waking up so suddenly Florence stretches then leans over to kiss Aaron's cheek.

He pats her the back of her head, holding her there for a second.

"Sure you don't need help?" He grumbles.

"Mm. I'll be fine." Florence whispers, eyes closed as she lets her head rest on his for a moment longer before pushing herself up again and standing.

It takes less than a minute for her to change into clean underwear, pull on a pair of jeans and throw the old one into close enough proximity to the laundry bag that she'll remember to put it in later. She ties her hair back and turns the lock in the door.

An old night dress will have to do as a shirt for now.

"Chelsea, Anna- if you want to make cakes you'll have to get dressed and wash your hands!" She shouts.

Immediately there's the sound of whining and Florence groans, bringing a palm to her forehead even as Chelsea calls up the stairs to say that she's ready.

"Anna. You have to get dressed." Florence coaxes, finding her six year old sitting just inside her room with crossed arms and a scowl.

"I don't want to." The girl grumbles, brows furrowing further as she looks away from her mother.

"Anna." Florence warns.

The child groans again and Florence attempts to pick her up, dropping her after a few seconds as she squirms.

"Anna. You need to wash your hands and change into day clothes before we can make cakes. Chelsea's already done it." The tired woman explains, hands on her hips and eyebrows raised at her daughter whose sulking acts as a background noise.

"I don't want to change into day clothes!" Anna strops, kicking at one of the toys on her floor violently.

Florence closes her eyes, feeling the irritation rise as she takes a deep breath.

"Why don't you want to change into day clothes?" She demands, forcing herself to look back at her her temporarily more problematic child. Her fingers tighten their grip a little as she tries to keep her tone even.

"I want to stay in bed clothes." Anna complains, slightly less moodily as she kicks at another toy.

Florence rolls her eyes as she looks at her daughter who is avoiding looking at her.

"Why do you want to stay in your bed clothes?" She asks with what feels like the patience of at least three saints.

"I like the cats on them." The six year old explains, voice still a whine as she pouts at the floor.

Mentally Florence sighs, waiting a few seconds before replying.

"Well you have day clothes with cats on them."

The whining increases in pitch.

"I don't like them!" Anna complains.

"Why not?" Is Florence's bitten off response, "You liked them perfectly fine yesterday." She points out, folding her arms.

"I didn't! I don't like them!" The child protests.

Florence closes her eyes and tries to breathe deeply.

"Well whether you like them or not you have to change into day clothes and wash your hands and then you can come and make cakes." The mother insists, leaving the room to avoid the tantrum which follows her demands. She closes the door behind her, gritting her teeth at the howling.

So much for a quiet morning.

* * *

As Chelsea and Florence start getting the ingredients out of the cupboard according to an old recipe book that Aaron's mother had sworn by Florence informs her daughter that she isn't to try and talk to Anna until the cakes are done being made or talk to her about the making of the cakes afterwards.

She knows regardless that Chelsea will probably end up provoking Anna in some other way even if it is accidental but if she can avoid the most of that it would be a blessing.

* * *

Anna tries to join in four separate times, Florence insisting on each of them that she goes upstairs, washes her hands and changes out of her pyjamas, before she finally comes down, red eyes and scowling but dressed.

She refuses to join in, glaring at the two of them as she stands right beneath Florence's left elbow and directly in the way.

Florence pointedly pays her no attention as she and Chelsea spoon cake mix into paper cases.

After three it's annoying and inconvenient enough that she has to address it.

"Anna. Would you like to help us fill the cake cases?" She asks.

The girl moans. Her sister looks at Florence as if she was any better at Anna's age.

"If you want to help us then you'll have to use your words." Florence insists.

"Yeees." The little girl finally says, dragging out the word like it pained her to give in.

"Good." Her mother says, handing the smaller spoon that she'd been using to scrape the clinging batter on the back of the larger spoon that Chelsea had been using into the cases.

She steps back to supervise, praying to gods she doesn't believe in that the two will get through at least putting the cakes in the oven without argument.

* * *

By some miracle the cakes manage to get baked without civil war in the kitchen.

It takes far longer than Florence would have herself but that is just a given with children.

When there are twenty-four cakes too hot to ice on a cooling rack next to the window propped open just slightly in case it started raining as it was threatening to.

"I want to put icing on them." Anna demands.

Florence had been waiting for this- her daughters never have the patience to wait until the cakes have cooled to ice them.

"Oh dear," She says, as if she hadn't predicted this, "I forgot to make icing and the kitchen isn't clean so I'll have to clean up first before we make icing." Florence frowns to add extra credence to her claim.

It does help that although her daughters are starting to be a little bit receptive to other people's minds due to her very loose training with them they are still very young and so easily fooled by simple things.

"I can help clean up!" Anna says, earlier moodiness quite forgotten by now.

"I can too." Chelsea says, feigning a lack of enthusiasm to get the cakes ready quite obviously.

"Okay- I'll get you some cloths then." Florence says, letting the tap run until the water is hot and then rinsing out the old rags until they are slightly less soapy and wringing them until they aren't dripping.

"Here you go." She says, passing one to each of them, "Remember to get all the bits on the counter and the cupboard doors." She reminds them as she scrapes the blobs of cooked cake off the tray and into the food scraps bin and puts the tray away again. There's no point cleaning a pretty much clean tray.

As the girls work the rest of the washing is put in the dishwasher.

After a few minutes everything is… Cleaner.

The children are children after all and the cloths are already back in the bowl in the sink and it's close enough that Florence can give it a proper wipe over when the cakes are done and Aaron is entertaining the children.

He is definitely going to be putting them to bed that evening.

Florence pulls out the bowls and icing sugar.

"Right then. What colour do you want to make the icing then girls?" She asks though she already knows the answer.

"Purple!" They say, words overlapping which makes Anna giggle and Chelsea glare.

"Okay. Purple it is then." Florence says, laughing a little on the inside as she finds the blue and red food colourings.

It doesn't take a very long time for Anna and Chelsea to take turns in stirring the icing to get it to the right consistency (although it is again far longer than Florence would take herself). It's enough time though so that when Florence goes over to see if the cakes are ready to be iced they're just about cool enough.

She keeps a careful eye on the glass bowl which gradually edges closer to the end of the counter as the girls stir the icing and adds a little of the red and the blue food colouring near the end, quickly stirring it herself to see if she can get the colour close enough to what the kids want.

When they've finally deemed it satisfactory Florence brings over the rack of cakes and puts them on the counter between the girls, splitting the far too great an amount of icing into two separate bowls for the girls to use without fighting.

One huge mess on the counter later the cakes are iced, mostly too heavily though Chelsea seems to have learned moderation a little bit unlike her sister, and both girls are eating the icing left.

She calls Aaron down from his staying clear of the kitchen to get the somewhat sticky girls into a bath and their clothes into the wash.

Perhaps her youngest daughter had a point about staying in her pyjamas.

* * *

With her children out of the way she manages to clean the kitchen properly and put the cakes which have set into a tin, a layer of beeswax wrap between each layer of cakes to try and prevent too much icing making a mess.

Her gaze drifts to the fridge and a few of the drawings that the girls have done for Missy as she hears happy shrieking upstairs.

She wonders if the Doctor will visit again soon or if she'll keep making cakes with the girls in the hope of it for much longer.


	12. Chapter 12

Next chapter's on September the 8th.

* * *

Florence and Aaron tiredly dress the girls for the day, allowing Anna to wear a pair of cat ears and a halloween princess dress rather than face arguing with her.

Chelsea then immediately says that it's stupid to dress up when it's not the right day, not hiding her jealousy for also wanting to dress up or her desire to seem adult by not dressing up very well at all, and they, rather predictably, begin fighting about it.

"Chelsea." Florence warns, hands on her hips as she gathers the energy to try and control her children, "If you don't have anything nice to say then don't say it."

"But it's stupid and she shouldn't do it." Whines Chelsea, scowling at the ground which prompts more yelling by her younger sister.

Aaron quietens Anna and lays a hand on her shoulder to hold her still before she can try and hit Chelsea.

"It doesn't matter what you think. If Anna wants to dress up then Anna can dress up. The same as you." Florence says, eyebrows raised as she stares pointedly at her oldest daughter's downturned face.

Chelsea just moans and Florence rolls her eyes, holding back a sigh.

"Now say sorry to Anna and go and watch tv or something. Just stay away from your sister." Aaron says, looking at their eldest daughter too.

"I'm sorry!" Chelsea strops and then stomps out of the room and down the stairs, clearly not meaning the apology at all.

Anna is still grumpy about the whole situation but does take her dad's advice to stay upstairs and play where Chelsea can't be nasty to her as long as he stays to play boats with her and agrees to be a specific boat from one of shows that she enjoys at the moment. Florence leaves them to it, quite pleased to have got out of playing that game again, and heads downstairs to make sure that Chelsea isn't acting up over getting told off.

Strangely enough as she begins to walk down the stairs she hears her daughter responding to the television which she hasn't done for years. Then she realises that the television sounds like it's responding to the specific things she's saying which is even more unusual. It's about when she reaches the bottom of the stairs that she realises again that the tv isn't on and that Chelsea isn't in the lounge and voices are in the kitchen.

It's about then when she feels her heart rate pick up in horror and rushes into the kitchen as quietly as possible to try and get whoever is in her house who shouldn't be out.

The first thing her eyes go to when she gets in are Chelsea taking one of the cakes out of the box, the second the grey haired man sitting at the table confusedly and the third is the rather large blue box taking up most of her kitchen.

She feels her irritation grow and crosses her arms.

"Chelsea. Even when you know the strange man who has come into our house you should come and tell mummy and daddy." The woman says.

Chelsea drops the cake guiltily and replaces the lid.

"Well I'm hardly a man- that is for you humans." The Doctor scoffs quietly.

Florence shoots him a glare and he holds his hands up defensively.

"Chelsea. Even when you know the strange being who has wandered into this house you should tell dad or me." She corrects, eyes darting back to the alien sitting awkwardly in a chair that doesn't seem to be made for his arrangement of limbs with eyebrows raised.

"I mean. I'm hardly strange…" The Doctor trails off as Florence turns back to her daughter.

"You're very strange." She says dismissively, then to her daughter. "Why don't you go and tell Anna and daddy that the Doctor is here?" In a way which emphasises that it's not a question.

Chelsea, realising this quickly, runs upstairs to go and find her sister and father.

Florence turns to the Time Lord.

"Would it kill you to call before you turn up?" She asks.

The Doctor shrugs, sinking in his chair and not looking at the human.

"So next time- if you could- it would be helpful." Florence sighs, "You know where everything is- I've just got to sort a few things out." Saying this she heads up the stairs, passing by the kids' bedrooms as they scramble for whatever it is they think necessary to bring this time as Aaron tries to persuade them that they don't need them. She gets into her room and opens the draw on the dresser, digging beneath a couple of shirts until she finds the letter, corners just a little less crisp than they had been, and tucks it into the pocket of an oversized grey coat which she slings around her shoulders.

Quickly she shoves a few more things in her pockets; house keys in case the Doctor dropped them off outside the house accidentally, her phone and a new tube of lipstick that she'd thought the Mistress might like. She can't imagine needing anything else.

She puts on some comfortable shoes and ties them up, heading out to help Aaron with the kids.

"Anna- have you went to the toilet?" She calls as the six year old starts to run down the stairs only to turn around and run the other way.

"I'm doing that now!" Anna calls back, overstuffed backpack bouncing as she does.

Florence leans into Aaron, resting her head against his.

"I'm impressed you got her down to that." She comments, voice lowered as she smiles a little, wrapping an arm around his back.

"I told her that Missy probably wants more drawings and she should probably do some while she's there." He says, chuckling a little.

Florence groans, running a hand down her face.

"That's?" She asks and he laughs, pulling her into his chest.

"Yep!" Her husband says, amused by the exhaustion in her voice.

"God- the Mistress is going to be finding pens for months." She moans, knocking her head against his chest for emphasis. Aaron however is unsympathetic and just grins.

"I'm going to put some shoes on. Meet you downstairs." He says, kissing her cheek as she sighs and rolls her eyes.

"I'm blaming you if there are complaints." Florence calls after him as she herds Anna downstairs again before stopping, the girl continuing down past her.

"Anna. You were very quick. Did you wash your hands?" She asks and the child hums, stopping and looking shifty.

Her mother sighs.

"Okay. Go and wash your hands first or you can't have any of the cakes." She tells her.

"Okay." Her daughter complains, slowly trudging back up the stairs again.

"Chelsea- have you got shoes on?" She calls out, not entirely sure where her eldest daughter is and just hoping that the answer in the unexpected one.

"I'm just putting them on." Is the answering call from the kitchen and Florence sighs in relief that it's one less thing for her to coordinate as she heads into the kitchen too.

The Doctor is drinking a cup of what Florence has suspicions might be both tea and coffee at the table, listening to Chelsea intently as she details her rivalry with one of the boys at her school and how she's going to beat him in the maths tests again this year. The Time Lord's gaze flickers briefly up to her and he lets her go on for a few more seconds before he interrupts.

"Oh look- your mother is here." He says as if it's a surprise, draining the concoction in the pink polka-dotted mug he's chosen and putting it down on the table while Chelsea is distracted, "Shall we get in the TARDIS?" He asks, standing up and leaning down to offer a hand to the girl.

She takes it and before Florence can say anything the Doctor is leading her into the TARDIS.

Florence hopes to god that this trust isn't replicated in anyone other than him.

She picks up the Time Lord's mug as she passes the table, grimacing at the thick sugary, coffee coloured sludge in the bottom of it before she rinses it out and puts it on the side to clean properly later. The human picks up the cake tin then puts it down a second later, first going over to the stairs to check that there are no further delays.

As she does she's passed by Anna who she directs into the TARDIS.

Aaron smiles down at her from the top of the stairs, taking his time and Florence rubs her eyes.

"Don't look so smug. I'll make you get up to deal with the girls next time so I can sleep." She promises as he presses a kiss to the top of her head and laughs again, heading into the kitchen.

Florence follows, finally picking up the cake tin before she joins everyone else, already in the TARDIS.

"Okay. Has everyone got everything?" She asks for what she hopes is the last time until they leave the Mistress.

Everyone nods or says yes and the Doctor grins excitedly.

"Right then! Off to-" He begins only to be interrupted by Chelsea.

"Wait! I forgot my book!" She shouts, rushing out of the TARDIS. Florence hears footsteps pounding up the stairs and sighs.

Kids.


	13. Chapter 13

Next chapter's on the 20th of October.

* * *

Eventually everyone is settled and ready for the Doctor to take off, children instructed firmly to hold on to one of the railings as Florence and Aaron stand beside them in case they let go mid-flight.

Thankfully for everyone's capability to stay upright the journey is short and soon the Doctor is striding towards the doors in a way which suddenly makes Florence doubt that he knows where they are. She's about to ask if they're in the right place when Anna pats the tin in her hands.

"Mummy? Can the Doctor have a cake?" The girl asks, toes lifted off the floor as she swivels on her heels in a way which is going to wear through them far faster than she would like. Her children seem to have a knack for ruining shoes.

"Yes. Okay." Florence says, deciding that the Doctor can decide what to do with it when he has it and privately being quite glad that it means there will be one less cake for the kids to eat and become sugar high from.

She opens the tin and lets the girl take one to the alien, running after him and almost colliding with his tartan covered legs moments before he is going to open the door.

"It's a cake for you." Anna says eloquently and shoves the thickly iced cupcake into the startled Time Lord's hands as Chelsea sneaks closer, wanting to see what he makes of their efforts though she's clearly trying to pretend that she is just going towards the door and has in fact completely forgotten about the cakes and does not care.

Aaron shares an amused glance with Florence as she gently closes the tin again so the noise doesn't disturb them or give the Doctor the chance to quickly get rid of the cake so that he doesn't have to deal with it.

They follow the paths of their daughters.

"Oh." The Time Lord says, eyebrows jumping upwards as he looks at the cake in confusion, hands unmoving.

"For me?" He asks, looking at the child with uncertainty.

"I just said that." Anna complains, folding her arms and watching him expectantly.

The Doctor remembers that he can use his hands and raises the small cake to eye level, inspecting the drips of almost-set rich purple icing dripping down the sides with a puzzled expression.

"Thank you." He settles on, smiling in a way which seems genuine but still confused. The man reaches down with the hand not holding the cake and ruffles Anna's hair, knocking the cat ears almost off her head. He feigns shock as the girl huffs and attempts to restraighten them, disordering the rest of her hair and not seeming to notice at all.

"I thought you had real cat ears." He gasps, voice softer as he raises his eyebrows to further enhance the faux surprise.

His efforts are rewarded by the girl's laugh as she grabs hold of his arm and pulls on it.

"Silly!" She chides, still giggling as the Doctor's expression sours a little and he tries to free his arm without shaking her off completely.

"Anna. Maybe you should let the Doctor eat his cake, hm?" Aaron suggests, putting a hand on her shoulder, "Then we can go and see Missy, yeah?" He adds incentive and the girl releases the Time Lord from her iron grip and instead watches him expectantly.

The Doctor eyes the cake again for a moment, looking rather relieved for no longer having a child attached to his arm, and then takes a large bite out of it.

Chelsea makes a disgusted expression which has Florence laughing in milliseconds.

"You're meant to take the paper off first!" She tells him, physically backing away, face contorted into disgust and horror.

The Time Lord chews and shrugs, taking another bite of the cake, still wrapped in paper.

Chelsea is beyond horrified and Aaron's eyes meet Florence's in confusion and a sudden influx of what his wife is quite certain is doubt. A brief passing over of his mind finds impressions of a distinct wrongness in the world and in the alien in front of him who he seems to be remembering is in fact not human.

Anna however is delighted, shrieking in laughter as she attempts to tell the man that he's eating it wrong.

"Why- it's edible. Very good." The Doctor praises after clearing his mouth before finishing the cake in one last bite then turning back to the door.

"Now!" He says, pulling the door open.

Whatever he was going to say is drowned out by the flurry of snow which immediately gusts in and his panicked slamming of the door.

The humans look back at him in shock, even the girls silent for once.

Florence crosses her arms.

"I would take it that we aren't in the right place." She says, raising an eyebrow at the Time Lord as he stares at the doors for a moment longer and then looks to her, expression sheepish before he scurries back to the console.

"Just a bit out." He admits, reconfiguring things as Florence takes Anna's hand and wraps it around the guard rail, her own over it.

"Hold on tight." She sighs as the Doctor gets the Tardis off the ground again.

* * *

Luckily (and Florence is quite sure it's down to luck) the Tardis lands in the right place the second time around.

Nardole greets them looking just as grumpy as last time and Chelsea beats Anna to the punch this time, asking him if he'd like a cake.

The man seems mildly offended by the question, a look of strong disgust pulling itself over his face.

"What would I want a cake made by smelly humans for?" He asks, nose wrinkling as if he'd smelled something bad, "You guys have no sense of-" He continues complaining, cut off by the Doctor.

"Nardole." The Time Lord coughs, voice low as if that would hide the fact he'd spoken from the kids even further even as he attempts- attempt being the defining word here- to gesture subtly to Chelsea.

The man's expression changes and he presses his hands together, pleasant as he bends down a little to reach Chelsea's height.

"Oh- of course. I would love one of your cakes." He says without feeling, smiling woodenly at the girl who doesn't quite seem to notice.

She smiles and Florence passes her the tin which she opens, displaying all the rather heavily decorated cakes to the mostly metal man for him to choose from.

Delicately and with a barely restrained expression of disgust he plucks one with minimal icing from the tin, still forcing a smile.

"Thank you. I'll eat it later with a cup of tea." He says, looking at the Doctor for guidance for a moment before patting the girl on the shoulder possibly a little too heavily, not that she minds, and straightening up again. The cake is still held carefully between his thumb and index finger, the other fingers pulled back as if the more physical contact he made with the cake the closer the thing would come to exploding in his hand.

"Right. I presume you'll want to be going in." The Doctor says, clapping his hands together and giving a brief smile to Nardole as he distracts the girls and allows the other man to escape and dispose of his cake most likely away from prying eyes.

He steps over to the door and Anna and Chelsea follow eagerly, Chelsea still holding the cake tin tight. Florence and Aaron join them as the Doctor pushes open the door and before anyone can stop them the girls rush in, screaming for Missy who lets them run into her arms, uncertainty fluttering through her mind as Florence relaxes her usual restraints as the Time Lady looks first to her and then to her husband, trying to gather what they think of it.

"Hello girls!" The Mistress laughs, grinning as she wraps her arms around them, back carefully curved to allow her to avoid the open tin of cakes.

Aaron looks to Florence and she smiles, gesturing with her head for him to go in ahead of her as the Doctor sputters a little, clearly panicking over the way the children rushed at Missy.

Florence takes his attention, gently nudging him and then fishing the letter out of her pocket as he looks to her, shocked by the contact.

"For you." She says, sliding the envelope into his hands and then trailing after her children, eagerly chattering to Missy about things that have gone on in their lives since she last saw them, and her cautious husband.

The doors close for a few moments but Florence doesn't look back to see the confusion and burning curiosity on the Doctor's face before they do.

The Mistress pulls away from the girls, squatting down to reach their level as they talk, cake tin forgotten between all of them. She smiles, grin growing wide as she reaches out and scratches behind one of Anna's fake cat ears as if they were attached to a real cat.

"Oh!" The Time Lady says, eyes shining, delighted, "You have cat ears!" And promptly swipes them from the girl's head and places them on her own, laughing as she dashes away at a much slower speed than she could.

"They're mine now!" She teases.

Aaron looks at Florence who just laughs back at him.

"Unfortunately I don't think the Doctor will let us use her as a babysitting service."


	14. Chapter 14

Next chapter on the 1st of December.

* * *

Anna shrieks with laughter, already up and chasing the Mistress who hops from chair to table, pretending danger as she fake wobbles and stumbles for the girls' amusement.

Aaron smiles a little confusedly, looking to Florence.

"I thought you said that this is her before she met the kids?" He asks quietly after making sure that the children are thoroughly distracted by the Time Lady.

"They came last time, remember. I let her see my memories of everything- I think she's trying to mimic that as much as possible." The woman explains, huffing out a laugh as the Mistress lets Anna catch her and take the ears from her head, sticking them back on hers in a way which is far less tidy and more lopsided than the child thinks.

Missy scoops up the girl in retaliation, tucking her under one arm and tickling her mercilessly as the child cries out for her to stop, still laughing.

The Mistress stops as she does, turning to Chelsea who is offering out the cake tin to her, eager to see her eat one. The Time Lady bends at the hips, curling her arm so the younger girl can scamper onto her back, holding on to her shoulders and trying to shake the alien who is far too strong to budge and pretending to growl like some kind of big cat.

"Did you make these for me all by yourself?" The woman asks, feigning shock which the children take at face value.

Anna laughs and Chelsea nods earnestly, pushing the open tin closer to Missy.

"Anna and I made them!" She says, "Mummy helped." She adds afterwards.

The Mistress chuckles, bouncing the girl on her back as if she would drop her.

"Just my colour too!" She says, forcing amazement as if she had only just noticed and not been aware since the tin had been put in front of her. Her eyes flicker to Florence, wanting to check that the woman was sharing in the amusement of her performance.

The slightest element of confusion flickers through her expression, obvious only the woman who has spent so many, many years with her. There's a pull at the edge of her mind, curious, and an image with it of her standing beside Aaron. The Time Lady takes a cake, no longer looking towards them and instead delicately peeling the wrapper off as the girls tell her about the Time Lord had eaten his cake.

"The Doctor is very, very, very silly and not very smart." The Mistress tells them, emphasising each 'very' more than the last.

Smiling a little Florence answers the fading pull by sharing the conversation that she had just had with Aaron and a few memories of their wedding. The slight confusion eases from the Time Lady's expression and she focuses back entirely on the children.

"It's actually a fact-" she declares, standing up tall again, one hand curling around Anna's bottom to keep her stable with the change of balance, "-that you are much, much, much, much better off giving your cakes to someone like me." The Time Lady says snootily, smirking a little as she takes a bite out of the cake.

"Why?" Anna asks.

Florence hopes that it isn't a reemergence of 'why' being her favourite word. That was not fun the first two times so she doubts it would be any less annoying a third time…

"Well!" The Mistress gasps, beginning to pace as she talks, Anna giggling at the movement, "I am a cake connoisseur!" She explains, smiling a little in the way which means that she knows that you don't know what she's talking about in a way which makes Florence feel unreasonably soft.

Aaron stifles a laugh, catching the expression on his wife's face and turns back to the kids who are asking Missy what the word means.

"It means…" The Time Lady trails off, taking another bite of cake just to make them wait a little bit longer. She swallows, amusement playing across her lips, "It means that I am really good at knowing when cakes are very good cakes because I've eaten a lot of them." She tells them.

Chelsea straightens up, smiling a little.

"Then I'm a cake connoisseur too." She tells the Time Lady in a way which makes it clear that she understands that there's more to it than that but is also going to use the word endlessly now so that other people know how smart she is.

"Me too! I'm a cake conser too!" Anna decides, patting the Mistress' shoulder excitedly as she stumbles over the word slightly longer than the usual and cuts out half the sounds which should be used.

Aaron laughs, striding in and rescuing the Mistress from the child on her back.

"Well if you like cake so much why don't you let Missy eat one without clinging to her, hey?" He asks, voice warm as he puts his daughter back on the floor again.

The girl instantly attaches herself to the alien's leg, possibly attempting to climb it though she doesn't know how to make that work.

"Missy doesn't mind!" She whines at him.

Aaron meets the Mistress' eyes, raising his eyebrows in question and the Mistress seems uncertain what to do with it. She blinks momentarily, tilting her head, considering what she's meant to do with this starkly human human as opposed to the barely-human-anymore she lived with for thousands of years and her offspring.

"It's fine." She mouths at him before looking back to the child and picking up her leg, shaking it as if she's trying to knock Anna off.

"What are you doing? Nobody gave you permission to glue yourself to my leg." The Mistress teases, staying balanced on the other leg easily as she gives a particularly vigorous shake which has the child clinging on like a koala, arms and legs wrapped tightly around the limb as she shakes her head.

"No!" She protests, giggling at Missy's false efforts to throw her off as Chelsea rolls her eyes and sighs heavily as if the whole thing is a huge waste of her time, arms folded.

The Mistress finally manages to eat the cake and folds the paper so she doesn't get grease or leftover icing anywhere else. She hums for a moment, folding her arms and still pretending to shake Anna off as Aaron hovers, uncertain what to do with the situation and a little bit worried about the Time Lady's leg.

"That is a very, very good cake." She tells Chelsea who is clearly listening but pretending that she doesn't care. Moodily the girl huffs.

"She said our cakes were really good!" Anna parrots, still clinging to the Mistress' leg.

"I heard." Chelsea sulks, clearly upset by how much attention Anna is getting over her.

The Mistress interrupts before Anna can wind Chelsea up more unintentionally.

"Well I heard that you'd done some more pictures for me." She guesses, hands on her hips as she looks at Chelsea.

The girl looks up, one eyebrow raised as Aaron, uncertain what to do with himself still, deposits himself into the plush sofa, Florence following and leaning back as she watches some of her favourite people interact. She leans against his shoulder and he smiles a little, resting his head on hers tiredly.

"Are you sure we can't just leave?" Aaron asks, "I don't think anyone would notice." He teases.

"Mmm. I think the Doctor might complain." Florence mumbles, yawning as she watches Anna finally let go of Missy and rush off to locate her drawings so that she can join Chelsea in scattering them across the floor.

The Mistress coos and points out different bits on the drawings, successfully pulling their elder child out of her sulk as the younger gets over some of her excitement at seeing Missy again.

"I don't suppose she ever mentioned any of this happening to you?" Aaron murmurs, unaware that the Time Lady can hear regardless and is listening.

"No- bit of a bootstrap paradox." She says with another yawn, slouching further into the cushions.

"She didn't tell me and she knows that she won't tell me in her future so she can't say anything otherwise the whole timeline might collapse. Time travel is risky." Florence summarises, letting her eyes close as she feels a gentle brush over her mind which makes her smile as much as Aaron's arm around her waist.

* * *

When they finally leave the room, the cakes depleted and the girls at the bottom of their sugar highs though the Mistress is still up in hers, the Doctor sighs.

"You had to let her eat almost all of the cakes." He grumbles, raising his eyebrows and smiling forcedly at the rather wild looking Time Lady as she salutes from the side table where she seems to be attempting to fold tiny paper castles out of the cake cases and attempting, somewhat successfully, to play the piano with her feet.

He sighs, closing the door on her with an air of 'we-aren't-done-here-but-I-can't-deal-with-this-now'.

"So. Home?" He asks, rubbing his hands together as he looks to Nardole who groans after a few moments, realising that he's been relegated to the 'calm Missy down' team of one.

Aaron nods, holding Chelsea's hand as she leans against him.

"I think home and bed is a good idea." The man smiles.

"You better come right back here to help me deal with Missy!" Nardole threatens, waving a finger at the Doctor as the Time Lord ushers the tired parents and children into the Tardis.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be back before you know I've gone." The Doctor placates, waving a hand before hurriedly shutting the doors and heading over to the console.

"Right then. Let's see if we can get these co-ordinates right this time!" He declares as he stops fiddling with various buttons and knobs which Florence knows don't do very much and pulling the lever which should take them to where they last visited.

"Doctor…" Florence interrupts, only to watch with amusement as the Doctor gets buried in a snow drift upon opening the Tardis doors and squawk in surprise, limbs flailing.


	15. Chapter 15

Next chapter's on the 5th of January.

* * *

Eventually the Time Lord gets them to the right time and place though it takes a few more tries and a few blasts of unpredictable weather conditions, a few arrows which skitter against the metal grating and what looks to be some kind of harpoon following a decent amount of sea water which the tardis has to drain out.

They land in quiet, the Doctor opening the door only inches before he smiles a little, pushing it open fully and holding it like that, letting the parents usher their children out.

Just before they leave the Doctor reaches out to Florence, not touching her but looking like he might.

"Um- can I just borrow your mummy for a second?" He asks the girls who nods, Anna whining about it a little bit as he straightens up a little.

Aaron shoots him a questioning look and then his wife. The Doctor looks away, pale and looking somewhat sad the human thinks. Florence just shrugs, raising her eyebrows with the gesture.

"We'll be waiting outside?" Aaron says though it sounds more like a question as he gently maneuvers the girls out into the kitchen and takes the cake tin from Florence. She sees him slide it onto the fridge in the hope that it will deter them from nighttime snacking before the Doctor closes the doors, shutting out the noise of the kitchen and two curious but tired little girls.

Aaron frowns a little at the door but presumes that it must be something about the Mistress for the Time Lord to be taking such precautions.

"Daddy?" Chelsea asks, leaning against his leg as Anna pulls at his other hand to be picked up. He lifts her onto his hip, groaning a little at the exertion.

She really was getting too big for this.

"Yes Chelsea?" Aaron asks, cursing the clock as he looks at it for the early time as it means they're going to have to keep the children awake and grumpy until their bedtimes.

"What's he doing with mum?" She asks.

"Well," the man says, hoisting Anna back up as she'd started slipping and wishing he had some of the same strength as Missy, "maybe he's kidnapping her? Taking her away on another adventure like the ones she had with Missy?" He suggests, teasing but a little bit worried still.

"No!" Anna protests, scowling comically as she looks at the tardis.

Chelsea rolls her eyes, folding her arms.

"She wouldn't let him do that." The girl states with all the certainty that children have in their parents before they're proven mortal a few times. Aaron doesn't reply and the three of them stand in quiet for a little while.

The clock ticks, counting the seconds and possibly minutes which go by if any of the humans had the thought to count them for entertainment or else distraction.

Aaron puts Anna down, sighing a little at the immediate relief he feels running through his arms though really he just wants to get the children cleaned, fed something which isn't just sugar and off to bed no matter the fact that the clock only says it's early afternoon and the sun is shining through the window out onto the garden.

Seeing that the tardis doesn't seem to be going anywhere Aaron goes to the sink and starts running the hot water into a bowl of cloths, making sure to mix it with cold before he wrings two out and passes them to the girls.

"Right then. Why don't you both go put the dinner on and I'll make something to eat for lunch?" He asks, saying it more as a command than a question.

Anna whines, stomping her feet as if it'll make whatever Florence and the Doctor are doing just finish already.

"I want mummy!" She complains.

Aaron sighs, head turned to the ceiling as he takes the cloths from the girls, Chelsea eyeing Anna as if to say 'look how well behaved I'm being'.

"Well mummy and the Doctor are doing something right now so you'll have to wait." Aaron tells her, squatting down to her level to emphasise how serious he is on the point.

The girl, overtired, at the depths of her sugar crash and overstimulated, decides instead that the best course of action is to go and bang on the tardis doors and demand her mother back. This results in Chelsea trying to 'be helpful' (or rather emphasise how grown up and useful and superior to Anna she is) by attempting to grapple her younger sister who, predictably, fights back.

Aaron is about to step forwards and stop them when Florence pulls the door open, seeming a little confused.

It takes a moment for Chelsea to let go of Anna who immediately runs to and wraps her arms in a vice grip around her mother who pats her back consolingly as she manages to maneuver the two of them out of the tardis and onto the kitchen tiles. She smiles stiffly at Aaron and he smiles back, acknowledging it.

"What happened mummy?" Anna asks, still clinging to Florence. The woman looks down, still not making a move to reprimand their elder daughter for restraining the younger. She gently brushes the bits of hair off her face, tucking them behind her real ears though it doesn't do much to the overall very messy effect the cat ears are still giving the child.

"Oh- the Doctor was just asking if you could do some more drawings for Missy." Florence tells her, looking into her daughter's eyes, "He liked the last ones so much that he thinks it would be good for her to have more." She emphasises, successfully distracting both children with the flattery.

Meanwhile the tardis fades away.

* * *

"It was just a difficult conversation." Florence admits to Aaron later, head on his chest as she runs her hand up and down his opposite arm slowly, more automatic than intentional.

"Hmm?" Aaron asks, his arm curved around her head and cupping her shoulder to keep her where she is as she breathes evenly, clearly exhausted. She knows him well enough to know that it's not disinterest but an invitation to continue.

"He was… Distressed. I suppose. It's weird to see him like that. I just- don't really know him that well and he seemed so guilty." She continues, hearing his heart beat steady beneath her cheek, reverberating in his chest, strong. It still feels strange for her sometimes to hear one instead of two sets of beats.

"What about?" He prompts, yawning and letting her cuddle closer to him, adjusting his grip just enough to make it easier when she settles.

"Mm." Florence hums a little, eyes closing though she knows she has to finish the conversation before they go to sleep, "It turns out that my grandparents travelled with him a very long time ago when he had a different face- his first one. He feels guilty that they appear to be immortal and thinks he somehow did it to them or let it happen. He also didn't know it until I gave him the letter." She murmurs, knowing that he can hear and letting him feel, just a little bit, what she felt from the Doctor.

Aaron shifts, uncomfortable, propping himself up on one elbow to look at his wife.

"You know." He murmurs, bending down to kiss her lightly as she seals off her mind again, "I really think that being able to feel that kind of stuff from other people is a very unlucky thing for you to have learned." The man frowns and Florence ignores him, bringing her head to his chest and wrapping her arm around his back as she pulls him back down to the mattress.

"Why?" She asks, voice muffled and knowing that there are some things that they just can't share a perspective on no matter how many times they talk about it.

"It's very unfair that you have to put up with other people's feelings." Aaron points out, sighing as he kisses her hair, holding her close.

"Mm. Maybe." Florence mutters, eyes closed, "It's not like I can remember how it was before in any real capacity though so it's not like I'm losing out on anything." She mumbles, huffing out a sigh as she feels herself drift closer and closer to sleep.

"You're getting the kids up tomorrow." The woman changes the subject and her husband chuckles a little, humming in acknowledgement.

"I suppose that's fair." He murmurs back.

Florence sighs, rolling over again onto her back.

"You know. He hasn't seen them for thousands of years now." She says, bringing her hands to rest on her stomach and feeling it rise and fall beneath them.

Aaron resettles himself, thinking for a moment.

"That's a long time." He says after a while.

"Mmm." Florence hums in agreement, "It is."

She wonders if someday she'll be forced to do that with Aaron, her own daughters.

She can't quite decide how the thought of that makes her feel.

He takes her hand and squeezes it, pulling her back to him again.

Somehow he feels so brittle now and delicate. That single heartbeat is sickly in his chest, weak and dying with every moment.

She knows that she will outlive him.


End file.
